


Next To My Heart

by JustR



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Minor Zayn Malik/Liam Payne, Pining, Pining Harry, Sexual Content, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-13 01:38:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 45,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7957171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustR/pseuds/JustR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things worked out pretty well for him. He’s got a nice job, great friends, a roof over his head, and enough money to eat. It’s only <i>pretty</i> well because he also is in love with a person who might as well be married. </p><p> <br/>AU where Harry meets his new neighbour Zayn and his boyfriend Liam, and figures out he's there for more than just to help them find the quickest grocery store.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Next To My Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [showingthroughtome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/showingthroughtome/gifts).



> And here it is! I hope you like what I did with the prompt :)
> 
> A million billion thanks to:
> 
> Gabi: I don't know what I would have done without your support and help!  
> Amaris: for your attention to detail and willingness to help me on such short notice!  
> The ones organising the exchange: we wouldn't be here without you! :)
> 
> To everyone else:
> 
> Please enjoy!

It’s just another weekend.

 

Or so Harry thinks. Everything is as it normally is, from his morning tea to his lingering on the balcony to watch the people getting up early to jog. He doesn’t know why they’re so fascinating to watch. Sometimes he even cheers them on. Not all of them find it amusing.

 

The morning is already warming up considerably, getting ready for the onset of heat during the middle of the day. His tea is slowly growing colder, but he still drinks from it as he looks down from his balcony, catching a whiff of the bakery across the street. Harry leaves his nearly empty mug on his dresser as he quickly puts on some joggers and a T-shirt before slipping out of his apartment and crossing the road to the little shop.

 

A bell announces his arrival and the owner smiles at him, still placing fresh loaves of bread on the rack behind him. He greets him with a ‘’Morning, Harry.’’ The owner, Alan, is a sturdy man with a bald spot on the top of his head, which he tries to cover by smoothing the remaining tufts of grey hair over it. Futile, really, but Harry’s sure he’d do the same.

 

‘’Good morning, Al.’’ He takes a peek at the assortment, but he knows he’ll end up getting the same thing as always.

 

Al seems to expect as much. ‘’The usual, I take it?’’

 

‘’Yeah, and Lou’s too.’’

 

The man chuckles heartily while he prepares Harry’s order, cutting up half of a spelt bread. ‘’Saturday, innit?’’

 

‘’He works hard.’’ They have just about the same conversation every Saturday, save from the ones Harry doesn’t go to the bakery himself. Al grumbles something but says no more. Harry gets distracted by a commotion outside - not that it’s a _commotion_ really, but for this hour of the day on this particular street, it’s a lot. A moving van just stopped in front of Harry’s building, and since he knows nearly every person in the building, he knows there’s no other possibility; he’s getting a new neighbour. The apartment next to his has been empty for a while, which was a nice change after Lindsay and her ever-crying child. She also seemed to believe that just because Harry works at a daycare, he’d love to babysit for her. And on the weekend, when he’s supposed to get his break from all the crying, no less.

 

A cough from Al brings Harry back to the current moment, and he accepts his bag with a smile. ‘’Tell that tosser he’s lucky to have you,’’ Al grumbles, putting on two large oven mitts after Harry hands him the money.

 

‘’Will do.’’ Harry watches him disappear to the back before he leaves the bakery and slowly makes his way back to his apartment. He tries to sneak a look inside the van, but movers are blocking his view. There is no way for him to tell which one will be his new neighbour, so he heads inside with a pout. He takes his time getting up the stairs, hoping to bump into an unknown person. All he hopes for is someone nice, possibly attractive, and easy to get along with. By the time he makes it to his front door he hasn’t seen a single person, and his curiosity peaks just as he sticks his key inside the lock. Instead, he takes it out and heads for Louis’ apartment, which is on the other side of the previously uninhabited one.

 

A few very loud knocks on the door is all it takes for Louis to get out of bed and open the door for Harry. He almost feels sorry for waking him up when Harry sees the state Lou is in; obviously tired, maybe even exhausted, but then he remembers the situation and that he brought him food. Waking up early isn’t going to kill him.

 

‘’We have a situation,’’ is all Harry says before he pushes into the apartment and closes the door behind him. He leans against it, the plastic bag catching Louis’ attention when it rustles. Of course, they should eat something first. Harry blindly reaches into the bag and pulls out the bagels, the kind with seeds on top that he hates (not that they’re bad, it’s just that the seeds _always_ get all over the place), and shoves them in Louis’ hands. ‘’Here’s breakfast.’’

 

‘’Gee, thanks.’’ Louis sounds gruff and anything but amused. Harry follows him from the narrow hallway into the small kitchen, where Louis dumps the bagels on the counter and goes to search in the fridge. ‘’What’s the situation?’’

 

‘’We have a new neighbour.’’ It doesn’t quite get him the response he expected; excitement, shock, curiosity.

 

Instead, Louis hums and keeps looking through his fridge, opening a tub of something that should have been cream cheese but now resembles something that’s decidedly not edible. ‘’What are they like?’’ He comes up empty-handed, closing the fridge with a final sigh.

 

‘’I haven’t seen them yet. Don’t even know what they look like.’’ Harry shrugs and accepts a bagel when Louis hands him one. Plain, since Lou seems to be due for a trip to the grocery store.

 

‘’Then what did you wake me up for?’’

 

‘’To share the excitement?’’ Harry trails after him into the living room, which is also narrow. If there’s one thing he doesn’t like about their apartments it’s the rectangular shape and that it sometimes feels as if the walls are closing in on him. The plus side is that it’s cheap and within walking distance of his job and other various places.

 

‘’You know I don’t get excited before eleven in the morning,’’ Louis manages to say through a mouthful of bagel. Harry just nibbles on his. They’re in the bedroom now, where the curtains are still drawn and Harry has to watch where he steps to avoid snagging his foot behind an item of clothing.

 

‘’Right, forgot about that.’’ The fresh air that flows into the room after Louis opens the door to his balcony is welcoming, and Harry quickly steps over a pair of jeans and some vans to get outside.

 

‘’Seems you were right.’’ Louis is leaning on the balustrade, looking down at people carrying boxes out of the van. ‘’Think it’s one of them?’’

 

‘’Probably.’’ Harry watches a little longer, until he’s seen the same four people leave and enter the building multiple times. ‘’Seems our new neighbour is a guy.’’

 

Louis yawns next to him, rubbing his eyes sleepily. ‘’I’m just glad it’s not another Lindsay.’’

 

‘’Don’t cheer too soon,’’ Harry warns him. ‘’He could turn out to be that guy who throws a party every weekend and have the building smell like weed the morning after. Or he could turn on his music _really_ loud in the middle of the night and pretend he doesn’t know he’s keeping you awake.’’

 

‘’Your imagination is awfully awake.’’ Louis stuffs the last of his bagel in his mouth, making himself look like a chipmunk.

 

‘’I can’t believe you actually fit that in your mouth.’’ Harry shakes his head and continues taking smaller bites from his bagel, wiping away any crumbs that land on his shirt.

 

‘’At least I don’t eat like a rabbit.’’

 

Harry rolls his eyes. ‘’So original, haven’t heard that one before.’’

 

‘’Doesn’t need to be original if it’s true, mate.’’

 

Their conversation is interrupted when the door to the neighbouring balcony slides open, and someone - their new neighbour, presumably - steps out. When Harry first sees him, about a million different thoughts go through his mind, yet they all seem to center around one specific thing: he’s unbelievably gorgeous. The man has beautiful tanned skin, black hair that looks effortlessly messy but probably took him a while to get that way (or not, he’s stupidly lucky in the looks department so it wouldn’t surprise Harry if his hair was perfect too), and a bone structure that shouldn’t be biologically possible. Just when he thinks he’s seen it all, New Neighbour turns in their direction, and smiles. If Harry didn’t know the sun was already up he’d think it was rising right in front of him.

 

New Neighbour steps closer to them and gives a little wave with his hand. ‘’Hey! I’m Zayn, your-’’

 

‘’New neighbour,’’ Louis finishes for him. ‘’I’m Louis, this is Harry. Nice to meet you.’’

 

Of course it’s Harry’s turn to say something now, and in true Harry fashion, he says something stupid. ‘’We’re not a couple.’’ Louis coughs awkwardly, raising his brows at him. ‘’It’s just, everyone thinks we are. But we’re not,’’ Harry blabbers on. ‘’I mean, I’d never date Louis.’’

 

‘’Gee, rub it in, won’t you.’’ Louis manages to sound offended, and New Neighbour - Zayn - just looks slightly uncomfortable.

 

‘’Sorry, you know I would. It’s not that.’’ He feels like he’s running out of breath, or at least has a shortage of oxygen in his system. ‘’But you’re straight.’’

 

Louis snorts. ‘’I am? Wow, thanks for telling me.’’

 

‘’You-’’ Harry’s at a loss for words and resorts to glaring at Louis before he turns to Zayn, trying to plaster on a smile. He knows it looks forced. ‘’Nice meeting you, Zayn.’’ Before he even gets a response, he turns on his heel and makes a beeline for the open door, rushing through the apartment until he’s back in the kitchen and safely out of range; he has no desire to hear what they’re saying about him.

 

Of all the stupid and embarrassing things he has done in his life, this one is definitely in the top ten. Maybe even the top five. Harry feels like he might have to hide from Zayn forever now. There is no other option. He leaves his half-eaten bagel on the counter, because his appetite just vanished, together with his chances of becoming friends with his new neighbour. Not that Zayn hates him now; Harry hasn’t given him a reason to. However, he’s given him a good enough reason to think of him as weird and socially stunted, which is worse. Harry knows he’d rather be stuck on a lift with someone he hates than with someone who makes him uncomfortable.

 

Louis shows up again just as Harry is contemplating hitting his head on the counter (Maybe he can bash out the stupid?). ‘’Stop overreacting.’’

 

‘’I’m not!’’ Harry stubbornly denies it.

 

‘’I _know_ you are.’’ Louis leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms. ‘’Granted, you were a tad bit embarrassing, but he seems like a nice enough person. Don’t give up on your crush just yet.’’

 

Harry groans, dragging his hand down his face. ‘’That obvious?’’

 

‘’To me, definitely. To him, no idea.’’ He steps closer and places a comforting hand on Harry’s shoulder.

 

‘’Thanks.’’ Harry finally feels himself deflate a bit, the embarrassment and panic settling down into something more manageable.

 

‘’Now.’’ Louis’ expression turns very serious. ‘’Are you going to eat that bagel?’’

 

***

 

It’s getting a little late, with the blue of the sky fading into warmer colours and the air around him smelling of barbecue. Harry is sat on a small terrace of a restaurant, playing around with the settings on his camera which he has memorised by now, nursing a glass of iced tea. He’s expecting his best friend in a couple of minutes, who has been busy working at the radio station for most of the day.

 

During those hours after Harry’s embarrassing meeting, he’s managed to avoid his new neighbour. He decided to spend the day outside, roaming around the city and taking pictures of things that caught his eye. If he pretends nothing happened this morning, Harry thinks today was a nice day. While he’s waiting he decides to kill some time by unscrewing the lens cap and looking at the world around him. He snaps a quick photo of a group of people laughing and conversing, their wine glasses reflecting some of the orange light that’s surrounding them. Harry loves the atmosphere during summer, the warmth that seems to seep into people’s behaviour as well, making everything lighter and happier. He looks at the photo on the tiny screen, humming in approval.

 

Finally his best friend arrives, looking tired but full of energy at the same time. He takes a seat across from Harry, sinking into the chair and sighing happily. ‘’What a day,’’ he announces.

 

‘’Good day at the radio station, Ni?’’ Harry asks, watching as Niall pulls at the collar of his shirt, tongue lolling out of his mouth. He thinks it’s funny how they never _really_ greet each other, just fall right back into conversation as if they haven’t seen each other for more than a few minutes.

 

‘’Yea, and bloody hot. You don’t wanna know how much heat all that equipment generates.’’ He waves over a waitress and orders a beer before he continues. ‘’Of course, ‘s nice during winter.’’

 

Harry just nods and screws the lens cap back on, carefully placing his camera on the table and sipping on his iced tea through a straw. ‘’Good audience today?’’

 

‘’Looks like we’re getting a few regulars. Sarah seems to request the same song all the time. She’s persistent, I’ll give her that.’’

 

‘’Maybe she just likes talking to you,’’ Harry teases. He uses his straw to stir the remaining ice cubes in his glass, watching Niall with a smug expression.

 

Niall snorts. ‘’Bull.’’ He thanks the waitress when she brings him his beer before bringing his attention back to Harry. ‘’You been on that thing all day?’’ he asks, nodding towards the camera.

 

‘’Pretty much.’’ He shifts uncomfortably in his chair when he thinks about _why_ he’s been outside all day. ‘’Got a new neighbour.’’

 

‘’Another Lindsay?’’ Niall knows all about her. He’s a great person to complain to; just takes everything in and only offers advice when you ask him to. Harry hates it when people try to tell him what to do.

 

‘’Thank the lord, no. His name is Zayn, seems nice enough.’’ He sucks on his straw again and frowns when it makes a funny noise, his glass turning out to be empty.

 

Niall quietly observes him, pouting his lips slightly as he always does when he’s thinking. ‘’I’m sensing you didn’t really talk to him.’’

 

‘’Not really? He seemed busy.’’ Harry has to resist the urge to play with his straw to keep his hands busy, knowing it will only make him look nervous. He’s trying to be subtle.

 

‘’You know,’’ Niall starts, obviously trying to hide a smirk, ‘’Louis had an interesting story.’’

 

‘’The bastard told you.’’

 

Harry already knows the answer before Niall nods, feeling the urge to text Louis and tell him off. He’s not surprised, though; the three of them tell each other nearly everything, and Niall and Louis seem to love it when Harry does something embarrassing. What else are best friends for?

 

‘’He’s the best storyteller out of us three, but he does tend to exaggerate sometimes.’’

 

‘’That, he does,’’ Harry agrees with Niall, picking the little menu off the table and perusing it. ‘’I assume you want to know what _really_ happened? Although I think exaggeration probably wasn’t needed.’’ His interest is piqued when he comes across a cocktail section, eyes scanning for something fruity.

 

‘’You know I do.’’

 

Harry sighs and places the menu back on the table. ‘’Fine, but I’m going to need a drink.’’

 

***

 

After some fruity cocktails and a good chat later, Harry makes his way back up to his apartment, still feeling positively buzzed. Every time he spends time with Niall he feels _light_ , his mood lifted and bad thoughts washed from his mind. Even his experience from earlier that day seems not so bad anymore, just a small slip-up. It’s that feeling he takes with him as he’s humming a tune that he caught from a Mexican restaurant on his way home, replaying the cheerful melody in his head as he fiddles for his keys and tries to pick the right one in the dusky hallway. Just when he’s about to stick it in the lock, the door to the neighbouring apartment opens.

 

‘’Hey! Harry, right?’’

 

When he looks to his side he sees Zayn standing in the doorway of his apartment, careful smile on his face and a fabric shopping bag clutched in his hand. Harry tries to copy his smile, finding it relatively easy. ‘’Yeah. You going for some late shopping?’’ he asks, nodding at the hand holding the bag.

 

Zayn finally shuts his door and closes the few steps’ distance between him and Harry. ‘’Didn’t have time for it yet,’’ he says as confirmation.

 

‘’You know where to go?’’ Harry asks, feeling his heart stutter when the small light in the hallway makes Zayn’s dark eyes glisten so they appear even more beautiful. He looks like he’s taken a shower, his black hair lying flat on his head unlike earlier when it was styled up. Harry thinks both looks suit him.

 

‘’I actually do.’’ Zayn rubs the back of his neck with his hand, smiling down at his feet. ‘’Came prepared ‘n all that.’’

 

‘’Good.’’ There’s a slightly awkward pause in which Harry fiddles with his key, uncertain of how to continue the conversation. He’s faring better than last time, not so shocked by the handsome man before him - still mesmerised, but able to think this time. ‘’Well, if you ever need anything you just knock on my door, okay? I’d tell you the same goes for Louis but I honestly can’t promise he’ll answer. All depends on how early it is.’’

 

This earns him a chuckle from Zayn. ‘’Thanks, I appreciate it.’’

 

‘’No problem.’’ Harry waves his hand and turns the key so he unlocks his door. ‘’I’ll see you around, then.’’ He waits for Zayn to say his goodbye and then enters his apartment, letting the door fall shut behind him.

 

‘’ _Damn_ ,’’ he whispers to himself. Harry takes a moment to rest his forehead against the wood of his door, going through the thoughts in his head. First of all he thinks it’s awfully nice of Zayn to pretend nothing happened. It only helps confirm his thoughts of Zayn being a nice person, which then leads him to think that his crush might only get worse. He honestly hates feeling like this, because it’s like he’s back in his teenage years, pining after unattainable people. Not that he thinks lowly of himself, of course not. Sure, he knows he can be awkward and a bit odd sometimes, but he also knows he’s a nice person and not bad to look at. It’s just that, well, people like Zayn are usually taken. Especially at this age.

 

Which only reminds him of how much he misses being in a relationship, and how long it’s actually been. His last serious relationship was years ago when he was still busy with his law degree, but it disappointingly fizzled out. No pop or bang, just a mutual feeling of, well, nothing.

 

He berates himself for spoiling his buzz while he kicks off his shoes and slowly shuffles his way into his apartment, turning on a lamp that’s situated on a table next to the couch. It’s a perfect light for reading, although lately he hasn’t read that much. The weather has just been too good to stay cooped up inside. Harry likes to take full advantage of the summer season, walking around and discovering new places while he takes photos with his camera. His bedroom wall is full of them; special ones he printed and stuck on his wall to remember, or just to inspire him. There are random shots of him and his friends at various locations, and of some of his favourite locations around town or lucky shots when he just so happened to catch a special moment.

 

Harry takes a seat on his couch, resting his arms along the back and rolling his neck. There is still a residue of the tingling warmth the drinks gave him, a different kind of warmth from the one outside. He absentmindedly pats his hair, where it lost most of its volume, and sighs wistfully. There are pros and cons to everything, he thinks. Summer brings along lovely weather, but makes a mess of his hair. Having best friends is amazing, but sometimes they laugh at your expense. Having a nice neighbour makes life so much easier.

 

Until you start to crush on him.

 

***

 

One of his habits is waking up much earlier than he needs to. It’s a result of him going to bed extra early, just to make sure he gets enough sleep. He doesn’t like feeling sluggish, especially not at work where he needs a lot of energy to deal with the kids. Today proves to be no different.

 

Children seem immune to the Monday blues, he thinks as he watches them play animatedly, spinning from side to side in his chair. It’s a big chair, with pillows soft enough to completely sink into. The kids love it, but for now it’s his turn to sit in it - with Meredith dozing in his lap. Her concerned mother told Harry about how last night the little one hardly got any sleep because she was so worried about the disappearance of her pet fish. Now she has permission to catch up on some rest, and because Harry was easily persuaded by a pair of big sad eyes, she gets to do so in his lap. Louis would probably joke about him being a softie, but Harry knows the man to be a sucker for children himself.

 

The door opens, and his colleague Cassandra rolls her eyes as soon as she spots him. “You’re annoyingly early, as always.”

 

Harry only raises his eyebrows challengingly, not saying anything so he doesn’t disturb Meredith. His challenging expression turns into a frown when he spots the small patch of drool wetting his shirt.

 

Cassandra walks up to them, cooing at the sight. “Could be your daughter, with those curls,” she comments, brushing some of the ringlets from where they had fallen in her face.

 

‘’You’ve got curls, too.’’

 

She rolls her eyes and points at her hair. ‘’These are different. ‘’

 

‘’Yeah…’’ Harry trails off, eyes flitting between the two girls. Cassandra’s hair is very different; it has more springy curls. Plus, she dyed it a bright red, which contrasts nicely with her dark skin. The kids love it and keep telling Harry to dye his hair red, too. He doesn’t think that would be a good idea.

 

“Why isn’t she playing with the rest?”

 

“Her fish died.” Harry grimaces, looking down to make sure Meredith didn’t hear him say that. She seems to still be peacefully dozing, with her cheek pressed to his chest. ‘’But she doesn’t know that.’’

 

‘’Poor thing,’’ she sighs, looking over at the rest of the children with a pained expression. ‘’I guess you’re going to be pretty occupied today.’’

 

‘’Sorry, Cass.’’ Harry isn’t _really_ sorry. He doesn’t mind doing this for Meredith, but he does feel bad for leaving Cassandra to deal with most of the kids on her own. At least for the morning. It’s usually when they’re still full of energy and up to all kinds of mischief. Harry’s lost count of the amount of times he had to clean glue out of someone’s hair. The glue is behind locked doors, now.

 

She waves her hand at him and shakes her head. ‘’Don’t worry about it. You know I love these kids.’’

 

Harry watches while she goes over to them, crouching so she’s at their level. Cassandra is absolutely amazing with kids. Actually not just with kids, he thinks. She’s a cool person. He lets his head fall against the back of the chair, and notices his eyes are starting to droop. Honestly, he can’t really stop it. The chair is too comfortable and Meredith is like a warm blanket. It’s not like he can actually _do_ anything, so he might as well nap with her. Harry tiredly nods at himself, completely convinced by his own arguments. A nap seems like a good idea.

 

A nap might have been a bad idea. The first thing that makes him realise this is that he feels drowsy. His mouth is dry and he honestly feels like maybe he had too much sleep and it’s now having a negative impact on him. No logic pops into his head to back this statement, but that may be due to the muffled giggles he hears all around him. It’s distracting. And _very_ suspicious. The fact that his eyes are still closed helps him concentrate on what he feels, and there seems to be a distinct itching feeling on his face. It feels partly wet and dry, which causes him enough concern to finally open his eyes. Meredith is gone from his lap, and he’s surrounded by kids, staring up at him with giddy expressions. Behind them is Cassandra with her phone in her hand, and this could only mean bad things.

 

‘’You sleep like a _log_ ,’’ Cassandra says, sounding slightly disbelieving. The children giggle again, even if what she said wasn’t funny. Harry is finally starting to come to his senses, sitting up straight and scratching at his cheek. There’s something dry on his cheek and it _itches_. ‘’Sorry, you were pretty much asking for it.’’ Cassandra is biting her cheek to keep from laughing, which only serves to make Harry frown.

 

‘’Wha?’’ he says tiredly, looking down at the hand he used to scratch his cheek and feeling his frown deepen when his fingertips have black smudges on them. ‘’Classic prank,’’ he comments as soon as realisation hits him. They drew on his face. While he was asleep. He honestly should have expected it. ‘’Did you use paint?’’ he asks when he scratches his cheek again, the substance on his skin feeling flaky and semi-dry.

 

‘’Yeah, figured it would be easier to clean off than marker.’’ She shushes the children away now that the fun is over while Harry fumbles for his phone. He opens the camera app, selecting the front-facing camera.

 

‘’Well,’’ he sighs, looking at the smileys and flowers covering his face. ‘’At least they didn’t draw anything inappropriate.’’ Harry scratches at his cheek again and notices that the other drying patches are starting to feel tight and itchy, too. Actually, the itching is starting to grow into a slight burn.

 

Cassandra laughs at him. ‘’They’re _children_ , Harry. Not teenagers.’’

 

Harry pockets his phone and gets out of the chair. ‘’I’m not sure what’s happening, but I’m taking it off because it’s starting to burn.’’ He really has to resist the urge to scratch more and he hurries to the employee bathroom with Cassandra on his heels.

 

‘’Are you okay?’’ She actually sounds worried now, but Harry’s busy wetting a towel and trying to get this paint off as fast as possible. ‘’Shit, I thought the finger paint would be safe, you know.’’

 

‘’It’s fine.’’ Harry keeps rubbing at his cheek with the towel even when all the paint is gone because the texture feels good and it’s _itching_.

 

‘’Okay, stop!’’ Cass catches his hands, stopping him from scratching his face any more. ‘’No scratching.’’

 

Harry fixes her with a glare, but he can’t keep it up for long. He’s never been good at giving people dirty looks. ‘’What do I do?’’ He looks at himself in the mirror, takes in the red patches with a grimace.

 

‘’I will…’’ Cassandra seems to collect her thoughts for a moment while Harry impatiently waits, trying his best to focus on anything but the burning itch. ‘’I know! We have some salve that should work.’’

 

‘’Some salve?’’ Harry clutches the sides of the basin, tensing his jaw. The harsh light of the bathroom makes the redness stand out even more. At first he didn’t even mind that much, but now the itching is really bothering him and he’s just annoyed. His gaze catches on the patch of drool that Mer left in the middle of his chest, which is now thankfully drying. A quick scan reveals no specks of paint on his favourite grey t-shirt. It could have been worse.

 

Cassandra squeezes his shoulder, smiling softly at him through the mirror. ‘’Yes, I’ll go get it. I’m sure it’ll work.’’

 

‘’It better work!’’ Harry calls after her. It has to.

 

*

 

It _does_ work. To some degree. Harry got through the day just fine, with the occasional reapplying of the salve, which actually turned out to be for rashes on baby’s butts. He tries not to think about the fact that he’s wearing a buttsalve on his face as he’s walking through the supermarket. It gets rid of the itching, but his skin still feels tender and the area under his eye appears a tiny bit swollen.

 

Everywhere he goes people are giving him funny looks. It began with the parents coming to pick up their children, asking him if he had an allergic reaction. Judging from their reactions, Harry thinks it must look particularly bad. This idea was only strengthened by the supermarket staff and customers giving him concerned looks. One kid even stopped to gape at him until his mother whisked him away with a muttered apology to Harry. He isn’t that bothered by it, because he knows it’s not permanent. It’s just a matter of keeping his head up and waiting it out.

 

He’s in and out of the supermarket in a flash, a bag clutched in his hand with his usual groceries, plus a balm for his face. Harry didn’t bother to look further, just picking the first thing that was face-friendly and served to help with rashes and itchiness. There’s still the incredible urge to sink his fingers into his face, but he’s keeping his hand firmly around the handle of his bag as he’s walking the short distance to his apartment. It’s past dinner time in the evening, or the perfect time for a late dinner, which means the streets are void of people. Everyone’s home from work, and as Harry turns into his own narrow, slightly shabby street, he breathes a sigh of relief. The balm is starting to lose its effect, and he really needs to touch it up.

 

After opening the main door to their building and starting his ascent up the stairs, he rummages around in the bag to make sure the balm is on top. It’s a bit clumsy, making sure he doesn’t misstep while looking in his bag, but he knows these stairs by heart. He could probably climb them blindfolded. Probably. Although, there are things that could make that more difficult, like a person, for example. Who just happens to appear exactly like, right now.

 

There’s someone a few steps above him, eyebrows raised in surprise. Honestly, if anyone should be surprised, it’s Harry. He’s the one actually living here. He takes in the stranger, notices with a soft hum that he’s handsome. Very much so. All soft brown eyes and amazing facial hair. There’s something cute about him, as well. Perhaps it’s the roundness of his face. He seems like a gentle person and Harry finds himself starting to like him already. Until the man speaks.

 

‘’Hey, I guess you’re one of Zayn’s neighbours? I’m Liam, his boyfriend.’’ The man, Liam, takes a few steps down and very politely sticks his hand out. Harry knows he’s supposed to shake the hand, but his brain kind of stopped working after the words ‘Zayn’ and ‘his boyfriend’ came out. Of course Harry knew that Zayn was probably taken, but he was _hoping_. And now he sees Liam and he’s so incredibly _not Harry_ , that he feels a bit lost. He should probably say something.

 

‘’Oh.’’ Not that. That’s not the appropriate answer at all. The hand is still out so Harry quickly shakes it to hopefully seem like less of an asshole, but the way he snatches his hand back really doesn’t help that. His mind is spinning again and he’s starting to think this moment might rival his first meeting with Zayn, which, _bad_ timing. Harry shouldn’t think of that moment.

 

‘’Are you okay?’’ Liam looks puzzled. At least it’s not offended. If Harry’s face wasn’t red already he’s pretty sure it would be so from the embarrassment he feels.

 

‘’I need to-’’ Harry doesn’t even finish his sentence before he bolts up the stairs, trying his best not to trip. By the time he reaches his apartment door he’s out of breath and cursing at himself with every word he can think of. Just as he’s thinking of a particularly colorful addition to the word ‘idiot’, a door opens. It’s not Harry’s.

 

Harry starts directing his curses not only towards himself but the universe and its odds as a whole, as he watches Zayn call down the stairs, waving a phone in his hand. Maybe he could sneak into his apartment, but the moment the door unlocks, the audible _click_ attracts Zayn’s attention.

 

‘’Harry?’’ Zayn’s expression flows from surprised to worried as he takes in Harry’s appearance. He looks like shit, he knows. ‘’What happened?’’

 

Just then, Liam comes back up the stairs, and Harry finally understands the meaning of ‘caught like a deer in the headlights’. Today’s theme seems to be _uncomfortable_.

 

‘’Am I missing something?’’ Liam looks between Zayn and Harry, obviously unsure of the situation himself.

 

‘’No,’’ Harry finally speaks. He clears his voice, calming down a tiny amount. ‘’It’s just from an incident at work,’’ he directs at Zayn, and he tries to smile but his skin is so tender that it’s more of a grimace. ‘’Sorry, I’m Harry.’’ This time he’s talking to Liam, who he’s been kind of rude towards. Good going, he thinks.

 

‘’Nice to meet you.’’ Liam just nods at him, keeping a safe distance. Harry appreciates that.

 

‘’What kind of work do you do, then? If you don’t mind me asking.’’ Zayn tilts his head, smiling softly.

 

Work questions, he can do that. ‘’I work at a daycare. Some kids drew on my face because I fell asleep. I didn’t react well to it.’’ He waves his hand around at his face, grimacing some more.

 

Zayn doesn’t seem fazed by his antics, which he appreciates. ‘’Aren’t you not supposed to fall asleep at work?’’ he asks in a teasing tone, successfully lightening the mood. ‘’Not sure if I could resist the temptation, myself.’’

 

‘’I…’’ The rest of the sentence falls flat and Harry is momentarily speechless while his mind comes up with images of Zayn being the one drawing on his face. He wouldn’t mind that. Especially if he sat in Harry’s lap. No, bad thoughts. ‘’Yeah,’’ he sighs. Harry seems to be very articulate today.

 

‘’I better get going,’’ Liam speaks up, filling the awkward silence that was threatening to occur.

 

It’s obvious to Harry the other two are getting ready to say their goodbyes and he does _not_ want to be around for that, so he clears his throat to catch their attention. ‘’And I better go take care of this,’’ he jokes, pointing at his face. ‘’It was nice meeting you, Liam.’’ Another thing he learned; repeat someone’s name so they know you were listening and bothered to remember. Liam does seem to perk up at that.

 

‘’Good luck with the face.’’ Liam pauses at his own words and frowns. ‘’I meant that as, you know.’’

 

Harry laughs, but it feels odd because his face isn’t cooperating. ‘’I know, it’s fine. See you around.’’ He directs his last goodbye to the both of them and then hurries inside, closing the door softly behind him. The bag drops to the floor, followed by Harry. He rests the back of his head against the door, feeling all the tension drain from his body. Today was just all sorts of weird. And it’s only a Monday. He groans to himself and takes the balm from the bag, holding it in front of him to stare at the label. Nothing actually registers in his mind, because he’s too busy thinking about Zayn and Liam. Liam and Zayn.

 

A small whine escapes his throat when he can’t lean his forehead against his knees like he wants to. The fabric of his jeans is too rough and would only irritate his skin further. Honestly, everything was fine before Zayn moved in. Not that Harry regrets that. He likes Zayn, and he thinks Louis likes him as well. Liam seems cool, too. He’s annoyed with himself because he _wants_ to dislike Liam but he _can’t_ because Harry’s too nice for that.

 

Eventually the itching becomes more urgent than his moping and he gets up to clean his skin and apply some more balm. He eyes the little pot of balm and starts praying to _something_ up there that it works.

 

***

 

The next morning Harry’s grumpy and sleepy. His night was disturbed because he couldn’t rest his face on his pillow properly, and on top of that he woke up in the middle of it to reapply the balm. He normally isn’t one to complain about having to wake up early, but this time he understands the enormous dislike people have towards mornings, because they come entirely too soon.

 

Today they’ll have to be okay with Harry not being at work as early as he normally is. All his movements feel slowed and it almost takes him double the time to finish his breakfast. Or maybe time is just moving faster. He puts all his dishes in the sink, and opens his fridge to find the juice. As he carries the carton over to the table he notices it feels light, making a mental note to buy a new one when he gets the chance. When he looks down at the table he can’t seem to find his glass and with a groan realises he dumped it in the sink with the rest of the dishes.

 

The frustration doesn’t end there. Just as he’s about to leave his apartment, patting his pockets to make sure he didn’t forget anything, he remembers to bring the pot of balm with him. Harry’s not putting any more of the baby butt stuff on his face. The little pot just barely fits in his pocket, bulging stupidly. He refuses to bring a bag with him, though. It all fits, so why would he need one? He’s ready to leave and it turns out he’s not much later than usual.

 

When he closes his door, Harry gets really confused for a second because, did he hear his door close _twice_? His question is answered when he looks to his right, only to see Zayn standing there with a baffled expression.

 

‘’That’s some freaky timing,’’ Harry’s mouth runs away, while his eyes finally get a chance to really look at Zayn and _oh_. So Harry’s never actually bothered to ask about Zayn’s job yet and he is very curious now because he’s wearing a suit. An honest to God suit with a tie and he looks so good Harry very much wants to curl up in a ball, and… His brain short-circuits because Zayn is also carrying one of those document cases.

 

He totally looks like a hot nerdy professor.

 

‘’I wasn’t aware you left at this hour,’’ Zayn says, ignoring Harry’s comment. ‘’Didn’t run into you yesterday.’’ He _almost_ sounds sorry about that, but maybe that’s just wishful thinking on Harry’s part.

 

Harry opens and closes his mouth, unsure of what to say. He was about to blurt he’s late today and always leaves earlier than this, but then his brain comes back to life and tells him he shouldn’t. This is an excellent opportunity. ‘’I actually was too early yesterday.’’

 

‘’So you always leave at this time?’’ Zayn asks with an adorable head tilt. Harry has to stifle a surprised sound because he just thought of his neighbour as adorable. How can someone be hot and adorable at the same time? The proof seems to be standing in front of him. Expecting an answer.

 

‘’Yes! Just the weekdays.’’ Harry nods along to himself, having trouble holding Zayn’s gaze because it’s so - not intense. That’s not the word. Open? It screams patience and friendliness and when Harry looks back to the document case Zayn’s holding, it suddenly makes sense. ‘’You’re a teacher.’’

 

Zayn smiles, wide and bright. ‘’You’re observant.’’

 

Harry is also speechless. He made Zayn smile, which is so much better than their first meeting where he could practically feel the discomfort radiating off Zayn.

 

‘’I can be.’’ Harry smiles back. It feels good to smile, especially when he means it. He slowly starts walking towards the stairwell, waiting for Zayn to catch up. ‘’What do you teach?’’ he asks him as they slowly descend.

 

‘’English. I think the kids like me enough. The subject not so much, I think.’’

 

‘’I don’t blame them,’’ Harry says, chuckling when Zayn whips his head around to look at him. ‘’I mean, the content isn’t bad. It’s the way it’s taught, but that goes for any subject. The system just takes all the joy out of learning, you know?’’ That manages to shut Zayn up for the remainder of their descent, even until they’re standing outside, the smells of the bakery across the street permeating the air.

 

Zayn finally looks up again, smiling at Harry a little sadly. ‘’I get it. I remember when I got out of school it took me too long to pick up reading for pleasure again. The way it’s done just… yeah.’’

 

‘’Nothing you can do about it.’’ Harry shrugs, wanting to stick his hands into his pockets only to find that they’re full. Instead he just holds them behind his back, circling his thumbs around each other. ‘’But it helps to have a teacher who is passionate. And nice.’’

 

‘’I guess.’’ Zayn ducks his head and Harry recognises the gesture, he does the same when he’s slightly embarrassed but also pleased. It’s sweet.

 

‘’Well, work is waiting,’’ Harry announces, even if he doesn’t mind letting it wait to spend some extra time with Zayn. Since when did he become _that_ person? After saying their goodbyes and heading off in opposite directions, his thoughts circle around some more. He has to seriously think about what he’s doing, because there’s Liam. Zayn is seeing someone, and Harry has to respect that. There’s a certain line in conversations he shouldn’t cross, which he is very aware of. He just hopes he doesn’t come across as too flirty, because he’s been told that’s just the way he is. Even Niall told him that his ‘’charms would get him into trouble,’’ and that can’t happen with Zayn. All he has to do is wait out his crush so he could perhaps gain another friend. Maybe two, depending on what kind of person Liam is.

 

In theory everything should work out, but with Harry things are never sure.

 

***

 

It’s Friday and for the past few days they’ve, almost magically, left their apartments at the same time so they could walk down the stairs together and have a little chat outside. It’s not as awful or grueling as he expected. Sure, there’s a tinge of bitterness every time Liam so much as gets mentioned in his early morning conversations with Zayn, but Harry’s not minding it too much. He still gets to talk to him. Harry is loath to admit it, but it’s slowly becoming his favourite part of the day.

 

When he arrived at the daycare, Cassandra cornered him to ask why he suddenly started arriving at a _normal_ time, which is odd. He’s never late. Well, unless you count this morning when he was _almost_ late because his conversation with Zayn got carried away. But he still arrived just in time. Although for Harry, that _is_ unusual. So he told her about his new neighbour and their morning chats, how it isn’t anything special. Even if it feels kind of special to Harry.

 

Harry’s on his way back home again, sulking and thinking about what he should make himself for dinner when his phone rings. One quick look at the screen, and he cheers up instantly. ‘’Hey, mum,’’ he answers, smiling widely.

 

‘’ _Hello, am I calling at a bad time?_ ’’

 

‘’No! I’m just on my way home.’’ Talking to his mother always cheers him up. Even just hearing her voice makes him feel better. ‘’How are things?’’

 

‘’ _They’re good, but I miss your face. You should come by more often,_ ’’ she sighs into the phone, and Harry feels a little pang in his chest.

 

‘’I know, mum. I miss you, too.’’ Whenever she calls him, it’s the same thing. They miss each other, and then continue to talk about their lives. She tells him about her latest hobby. She can never stick to one thing for too long. Harry talks about the kids - she loves them - and what they get up to. As soon as he mentions Zayn, he _knows_ what she’s thinking. People seem to have a one track mind these days. Or maybe it’s the way Harry talks about Zayn, that makes them jump to conclusions?

 

‘’ _He sounds lovely. You think there’s a chance…?_ ’’ She leaves the rest of the sentence hanging, knowing Harry gets what she means.

 

‘’No, he’s taken already.’’ He enjoys talking about Zayn, but not the part where he’s reminded of his relationship status. ‘’But it’s fine. At least I have a nice enough neighbour, you know.’’

 

‘’ _Mhm_ ,’’ his mother hums into the phone.

 

‘’I mean it. I’m actually being a proper adult about this.’’ That’s a lie. He feels like a whiny teenager.

 

‘’ _You_ are _a proper adult, darling. Just be careful_.’’ Harry doesn’t have to ask what she means. They both know if he ends up getting his heart broken it will be his own fault. Not that he sees it getting _that_ far.

 

‘’I know, I know.’’ He opens the door to his apartment building, shoving against it with his shoulder. ‘’Gotta go, mum. Love you.’’

 

‘’ _Alright. I love you_.’’

 

His footsteps echo throughout the stairwell as he trudges up the stairs. He doesn’t bother to put his phone back in his pocket, planning to call Niall later on to talk about tomorrow’s plans. Tonight is just for himself, though. Maybe he’ll tuck himself in bed with a good book, or watch some Netflix. There’s also the possibility of taking a warm bath. He still can’t indulge in a long, hot shower, because his face isn’t quite back to normal yet. At least the unbearable itching is gone, his skin only feeling incredibly sensitive to touch now.

 

He ended up situated on his sofa, eating sushi with his hands. He decided to order in because he couldn’t be bothered to cook but also figured he deserves a treat. He’s watching Discovery Channel, tuned in somewhere halfway a documentary, so he’s confused about what’s going on, but it doesn’t take away from his interest. Soon, he starts to grow tired, and there’s nothing stopping him from diving into his bed with a good book and calling it an early night.

 

Turns out there _is_ something stopping him. It is also not something he could have foreseen in the slightest. Harry’s tucked into his bed, propped against his pillow with a book opened in his lap. He’s got a fair bit of reading done, until the noise started. For some reason it reminds him of the comment he made to Louis last week, about having one of those noisy neighbours. It’s about eleven in the evening, and he was just thinking about sleeping. Now he doesn’t know what to do.

 

It’s coming from Zayn’s apartment, and if the layout of their apartments is the same, he guesses it’s the bedroom. Sadly, the walls aren’t as thick as he’d like. It started with the occasional _very_ muffled laugh, easy enough to ignore. What he can not ignore, however, is the loud music.

 

He valiantly tries to ignore what’s going on and read his book, but it’s impossible. It’s not so much the noise as it is who and why they’re making the noise in the first place. Actually, he’s annoyed by the entire situation. Even with himself, because he knows what’s going to happen. There is no way he wants to be _that_ neighbour, jumping at the first chance to complain about the noise. Plus, maybe they’re just celebrating. Harry doesn’t know if it’s a regular thing. He sighs at himself because he’s making up excuses just to not go over there and tell them he’s trying to concentrate, and hopefully sleep later on. Oh god, _sleep_.

 

When he looks over at his clock he sees that it’s nearing midnight. He honestly doesn’t want to wait out the noise before going to sleep, because he has no clue how long that might last. The book is long forgotten on his lap, the marker placed a few pages back. He wasn’t aware of what he was reading anyway, too distracted with the noise. With a sigh he places it on his nightstand, sagging back into his pillow with a frown on his face.

 

The only solution he can come up with is to not sleep in his bedroom. Harry swings his legs over the side and gets up, grabbing a pillow and a thin sheet before trudging through his bedroom and into the living room. He glares daggers at the wall before closing the door behind him, discovering that the noise is barely noticeable.  He tries to come up with a solution other than sleeping on the couch, but for now this is good enough. At least it means he can go to sleep.

 

The couch isn’t so bad. It has soft pillows and the room is dark enough for him. It can’t be good for his back, but he’s too exhausted to worry about that. He tucks his face into his pillow, grumpily flicking some curls away that are tickling his nose. Harry grumbles a bit to himself before going quiet, allowing himself to fully relax. He’s pleasantly surprised by how easy it is to slowly fall asleep on the couch. Or maybe he’s just _that_ tired. That is all he seems to be able to think, before sleep finally takes him.

 

***

 

That morning he wakes up grumpy. His sheet ended up on the floor and his muscles feel cramped up. He takes his time to stretch and think about how this is the second time this week he woke up in a bad mood. Okay, so the first time is his own stupid fault for falling asleep at work and getting painted on, but the second time, however, is completely unnecessary. He’s going to go to the bakery after getting dressed, and he decides to wake Louis up afterwards just to share his misery. Yes, he’s probably being selfish, and he shouldn’t drag Louis into this, but he needs to vent.

 

He makes sure he has his keys and wallet before heading out the door, going down the stairwell extra slowly. It’s nice and cool there, which is a blessing during summer.

 

Harry’s at the bottom of the stairs when he hears rushed footsteps heading down. He knows for a fact that Louis would never go outside this early, which leaves only two people. Both of whom he really doesn’t want to see. He squares his shoulders and takes a deep breath before slowly approaching the door. Only a few seconds later does the mystery person make themselves known, with an annoyingly cheerful greeting.

 

‘’Morning, Harry!’’ When he turns around he sees Liam practically hop down the last few steps, a bright smile on his face. His instinct would be to frown and grumble something in response because Liam looks too good this early in the day, all dressed up. Harry looks down at his own scuffed up sneakers and has to resist the urge to pout.

 

‘’Liam,’’ Harry acknowledges him. It’s a bit curt, but he feels justified. ‘’You’re up early.’’

 

‘’Yeah,’’ Liam says while holding open the door for Harry, ‘’I’ve been sent to the bakery.’’

 

‘’Al has the best stuff.’’ Harry nods his head and they walk to the bakery, side to side. There’s some awkward tension between them, which seems to make Liam uncomfortable, but Harry’s fine with letting them stew for a bit.

 

Is he being petty?

 

Probably.

 

When they’re inside and ordering, Al seems to catch on to the tension between them, throwing Harry a knowing look. There are some questions directed towards Liam which Harry feels free to shut out as he looks around the shop. He wasn’t lying when he said Al has the best stuff. There are some really nice golden brown pastries with fresh looking strawberries on top that he gets, just as a small apology to Louis. He’s not a _complete_ ass.

 

The moment they both have their orders - Harry’s bag stuffed to the brim - he’s ready to leave. Only, Liam is still talking with Al. What’s the protocol here? Does he just leave, or wait for him? Joining in with the conversation isn’t going to work because Harry hasn’t been paying attention. It only takes him a few more moments of awkward shuffling before they all say their goodbyes, and Liam and Harry head back outside. Waiting was the nice thing to do, right? The last thing Harry wants is to be on Zayn’s bad side, which means he’s going to have to be nice to Liam. Not that Liam doesn’t deserve it. The man’s been nothing but kind, other than the fact that they both kept him from sleeping in his bed last night.

 

‘’So,’’ Harry starts off, somewhat awkwardly, ‘’what do you do?’’ He holds the door open for Liam this time, welcoming the cool air of the stairwell.

 

‘’I’m a Physical Education teacher, but I teach at a different school. It’s a bit farther away from Zayn’s.’’ Liam is built well, with plenty of lean muscles. He looks like a PE teacher, alright. Although Harry remembers one of his old PE teachers looking nothing like that. They didn’t seem too interested in the sports aspect of their job, but more in the ordering kids around one.

 

‘’Looks like we all love working with kids, then,’’ Harry points out. ‘’Although mine are a bit younger.’’

 

Liam laughs at that, or snorts, rather. ‘’A bit? I reckon there’s a ten year difference, maybe?’’

 

Harry isn’t as amused, tempted to bite back with a snappy comment, but he doesn’t. ‘’Yeah, you’re right.’’

 

‘’But, we _do_ all love kids.’’ Liam at least seems to agree with that. They reach the top of the stairs and the conversation pretty much dies after that, which is totally fine with Harry. He waits until Liam is inside before loudly knocking on Louis’ door, tapping his foot on the floor as he’s waiting.

 

When Louis opens the door he gives Harry a sour look. ‘’Mate.’’

 

‘’Oh, shut up.’’ Harry holds up the bag and shakes it in front of Louis’ face. ‘’I’ve got a treat.’’

 

Louis nods at that, opening the door all the way. ‘’Do come in.’’

 

Much to Louis’ amusement, Harry spends ten minutes just complaining about Liam, trying to rationalize a reason to hate him. To Harry it isn’t funny at all, because his crush on Zayn is serious, and Liam is just _in the way_. The complaining goes from Liam to Harry’s horrible night on the couch, but eventually Louis cuts him off to give him an earful about how big of an idiot he is.

 

By the time Harry goes back to his own apartment, the extra pastries have been devoured by Louis, who claimed they were his favourite.

 

Harry knows him too well.

 

*

 

Only a few hours later, Harry finds himself seated in a pub and staring at a menu for dinner. Due to some schedule changes at Niall’s work they had to change plans, but they don’t mind. He already knows what he’s ordering, but he’s just staring at the menu to have something to look at. If he doesn’t stare at the words - that are looking less like words the longer he stares at them - he’ll stare at Niall. And then the floodgates will open.

 

He had planned to talk Niall’s ears off about last night and how obnoxious Zayn and Liam were, perfect couple and all that. Now, those plans changed. Harry blames Louis. He wasn’t having any of it and used the opportunity to stuff himself with pastries and laugh at Harry’s crush. It shut him up pretty quick. Also, Louis doesn’t do shit-talking, not behind people’s backs. Not that Harry was shit-talking, he was just complaining. Completely justified complaining.

 

Screw that, he was whining. Like a teenager to their parent. Louis might have been right to laugh at him. He internally groans at himself and drops the menu on the table, moving on to inspecting the pepper and salt shakers. They’re ordinary, so there’s not much to see and he gets bored quickly. When he looks up, he sees Niall observing him over the edge of his own menu with that calculating look.

 

‘’What?’’ Harry asks, nervously picking at the edge of his menu.

 

Niall closes his own, placing it at the edge of the table. ‘’Lou gave me the rundown of this morning. Warned me you might want to talk.’’

 

Harry shakes his head. ‘’I’m good.’’ He’s not even convincing himself.

 

‘’You look about ready to burst,’’ Niall says, rolling his eyes. ‘’Just tell me now so we can actually enjoy our meal, okay?’’

 

He has no idea what to say anymore and ends up just shrugging. The waitress comes by to take their orders and after she’s gone, the menus with her, he still hasn’t said anything.

 

Finally, Niall seems to come to the conclusion that Harry isn’t going to talk, and takes matters into his own hands. ‘’Look, from what Louis told me, you couldn’t sleep last night because your crush on Zayn prevented you from asking them to quiet down, like a normal person would. Also, you don’t like how often you’re running into them because you’re jealous. Did I miss anything?’’

 

Harry almost laughs, because it’s so true. Leave it to his friends to give him a reality check. ‘’I think the part where I’ve been a stupid prick?’’

 

‘’I mean specific to this situation, not in general.’’

 

This time Harry does laugh, his smile only growing wider when Niall joins in. ‘’You’re an ass,’’ he says, breathless.

 

Niall nods, sitting back with his hands folded on the table. ‘’But you love me.’’

 

‘’Can’t imagine how that happened.’’ He can, actually. Niall is an easy person to love. Himself, not so much. He can only hope that’s not going to be a problem.

 

Because he really wants Zayn to like him.

 

***

 

Several weeks later, on another Friday night, Harry comes to the regrettable conclusion that he, in fact, is an idiot. He’s comfortably - as much as possible - nestled into his couch, once again unable to sleep in his bed because of the noise in Zayn’s apartment. At this point he can’t even complain anymore because admitting that he can hear them, and has for the last few weeks, would be too embarrassing. Harry _really_ wishes he wasn’t such an idiot sometimes. He even tried earplugs, but they just make his ears feel like they’re full of water. Definitely not a fan. So he decides to suck it up and suffer once a week by sleeping on the couch.

 

Now, the suffering doesn’t end there. As soon as he wakes up and heads out to Al’s bakery, he bumps into Liam. Although, he has to admit he doesn’t hate it as much as he likes to pretend. Liam is nice, and the meaningless chatter they get up to isn’t a bad start to his day. It makes him feel like a normal person, with friends of varying degrees. Is Liam his friend? Harry thinks about this as he watches Liam rattle off his order to Al.

 

‘’Someone’s got a sweet tooth,’’ Harry jokes once they’re back outside. He’s referring to the sheer amount of pastries and sweet baked goods Liam’s ordered. The man goes red in the ears at Harry’s comment, but shrugs it off.

 

‘’Sometimes you just have to. Gotta stay sane, you know.’’

 

Harry sighs and shakes his head. ‘’I don’t know how you do it.’’

 

‘’Do what?’’ Liam asks, holding open the door for Harry. He always does that. Every Saturday he holds it open like a gentleman. Liam hasn’t given him a single reason to dislike him. Curse that man and his perfect manners.

 

‘’You know, the whole staying in shape thing.’’ Harry shrugs and follows Liam up the stairs.

 

Liam hums, sounding somewhat surprised. ‘’To be honest, I’ve been doing it for years, and it’s never _easy_ , but I enjoy it. I understand it’s not for everyone. Even Zayn calls me crazy sometimes.’’

 

As soon as they arrive upstairs, Zayn’s waiting for them, propped against the doorframe. He has that calculating look on his face, the one that makes Harry squirm because it’s like Zayn’s seeing right through him. Ever since that first Saturday Harry bumped into Liam on his way to the bakery - which is now a thing they do together, apparently - Zayn has been waiting for them. Harry would be suspicious but Zayn never does or asks anything weird, just makes small talk with Harry about the weekend. It’s nice, in a way. It makes him feel like a proper adult; having small talk with the neighbour.

 

After a short conversation about possible visits to the park, they all disappear into their own apartments. Harry is already certain that he’s going, because the weather is lovely, and that will give him plenty opportunities to take photos.

 

Nothing much happens on his way to the park. Harry passes a small square, one with a fountain that stopped working ages ago, and watches the people there. Employees of one of the small restaurants are setting up tables outside, yelling things at each other that he can’t make out. At some point he snaps a quick shot of two children blowing bubbles and chasing them around the fountain, while their parents are chatting off to the side. It’s adorable and leaves him smiling almost until he’s reached the park.

 

When he gets there, it’s busy. Not so busy that you’d want to turn around and walk away again, but busy enough. There are people lounging in the grass, sitting on blankets with baskets, probably filled with food. Others are just walking their dogs or pushing around babies in strollers. Sometimes the dogs stop to greet him and Harry always bends down to scratch behind their ears, if its owner lets him.

 

He pauses to take a photo through the branches of a tree where the sunlight is filtered through nicely. He stops to take a photo of the arched wooden bridge he likes, because this time nobody is near it, and snaps a shot of the lake through the hanging leaves of a tree. Niall always asks him why he takes photos of the same things over and over, to which Harry says that they’re never the same. Each time is different, because of the lighting, the season, and so much more. Sometimes he tries a different angle, or zooms in a bit more. It’s all about the details.

 

Right now though, details are the last thing on his mind. It’s growing steadily warmer, and he could really use something cooling. He knows there’s always a little cart selling ice cream somewhere in the park, so he moves along to find it. The gravel of the path crunches under his feet as he walks, and a gentle breeze tickles his face. Harry carefully places his camera back in the bag and grabs his wallet when he sees the cart, already a line forming. It’s pretty good ice cream for a cart. At least the vanilla is; the other flavours are a bit watery.

 

By the time he’s got his ice cream, making sure nothing leaks down the cone and onto his hand, he’s deep into the park. Not that it’s such a big park. On his way back again he comes across an empty bench, and quickly takes a seat. Sometimes he wishes he was still a little kid so he can swing his legs back and forth. It’s probably a silly wish.

 

Harry’s leaning back, just having finished his ice cream, when he suddenly hears his name. At first he’s confused, but then he looks from where the call came and his stomach just about vanishes. _Of course_. Liam and Zayn approach him, hand in hand. Harry waves back because it’s the polite thing to do, and Liam seems genuinely excited to run into him. Zayn doesn’t share the same level of enthusiasm, but Harry learned that it’s just who he is. More quiet and subtle, which can be hard to pick up on if you don’t know him well. Not that Harry claims to know him like that.

 

It’s awkward for a moment; always is when you meet someone and just watch them approach without doing or saying anything. Harry just fiddles with his camera bag, plucking at the straps with his fingers. He slowly stands just to be doing something, and also because he feels more comfortable when they’re on eye level.

 

‘’Hey,’’ Harry says when they scuffle to a stop in front of him.

 

Liam smiles at him. ‘’Seems we keep running into each other.’’

 

Harry thinks he sees Zayn frown, but it’s quickly replaced by a neutral expression. ‘’Yes, we do. Small world, huh?’’

 

‘’We heard there was ice cream.’’ Zayn pipes up, his eyes focused on Harry. It always seems to make him nervous to be on the receiving end of Zayn’s stare.

 

‘’Yeah,’’ Harry says, angling his body and pointing in the direction he came from, ‘’it’s that way. I recommend the vanilla.’’

 

‘’Thanks,’’ Zayn replies, tugging at Liam’s arm in a clear gesture to keep moving, but the man doesn’t seem interested.

 

Instead, Liam points at Harry’s bag. ‘’That a camera?’’

 

Harry looks down, pats his hand softly against it. ‘’It is. Just a hobby, you know.’’

 

‘’You take photos?’’ Liam’s face suddenly goes serious, his brows furrowing together and lips almost pouting. So far, Harry has learned that is Liam’s ‘’I’m thinking’’ face. He doesn’t get to see it often.

 

‘’What is it?’’ Harry asks, because there is obviously _something_.

 

‘’Well,’’ Liam says, wringing his hands together. It makes Harry curious because Liam seems nervous, which has never happened before. ‘’My sister is getting married, and she doesn’t have a photographer yet.’’

 

It takes Harry a second to realise what Liam is _really_ saying, or asking. ‘’I’m honestly not that great.’’

 

Liam snorts. ‘’I don’t believe that. Besides, you don’t _need_ to be great. You have a camera and like taking photos. That’s all we need.’’

 

Harry doesn’t know what to say. It sounds like a fun opportunity, a way to challenge himself and his creativity. He’s practically already buzzing at the thought of finding the right angles and getting that perfect shot. Plus, he’d get to go to a wedding. He loves weddings; the decorations, location, and pure happiness that seems to radiate from everyone, especially the married couple. Also, he wouldn’t pass up an excuse to dress up. Seems like he already made his decision.

 

‘’Then I’m saying yes. I’d love to!’’ Harry says, smiling when he sees how happy Liam is. It’s infectious, really.

 

‘’Excellent!’’ Liam claps Harry on the shoulder, squeezing it softly. ‘’I’ll give you the details next week. My sister’s going to be thrilled.’’

 

Harry nods, eyes flitting to Zayn. He still has that calculating look that Harry can’t seem to decipher. It takes a few seconds for him to decide it’s not malicious, which makes it a little bit easier to breathe. They part again, with Harry sitting back on the bench and watching them walk away.

 

There are a few thoughts going through his mind right now. Some of them are about the wedding he’s apparently going to attend, and others about Zayn, although he probably thinks about him all the time, anyway. He’s not worried about the wedding, would love to help out, but he knows weddings bring out the worst in couples. That could either mean they get sappy and disgusting (not that Harry can blame them because if he had a partner, he’d probably be all over them), or get into a fight. Watching someone get married really makes you think about your own relationship. He’s seen it happen plenty of times. The part that bothers him is how he will probably be watching Zayn and Liam go through that. Or maybe not. He just has to focus on the one couple. He’ll live.

 

Now that he’s back to thinking about Zayn, he can’t help but notice a shift in the man’s behaviour. He’s still his friendly self, but it seems like he’s become more quiet. There’s been a decline in how much he talks, and shares. In the beginning Harry didn’t really notice the difference, but now he notices a stark contrast with how Liam acts around him, and he can’t help but notice how Zayn doesn’t seem to be warming up the same way. Even if Zayn is the one Harry sees just about every morning. Maybe he’s just being paranoid, or reading into it too much.

 

That wouldn’t be the first time.

 

Harry kicks at the gravel with a grunt, telling himself to stop thinking about it, because it doesn’t matter anyway. You can’t force friendship, he knows that. There will be people you get along with instantly and others take more time to warm up to you. He knows all about the logic, but still can’t stop himself from wishing it all went more smoothly. With a final sigh he pushes himself up from the bench and starts on his way back home.

 

He better look at those photos he took.

 

*

 

It’s evening again, with the blue sky fading into oranges and pinks. Harry took up a spot at the bar, because today his and Niall’s favourite place to meet up is absolutely packed. He’s swirling his wine around in his glass, watching the barman flit around, serving people drinks. Harry is having difficulty keeping himself entertained, already bored with watching everyone else. Luckily, when his environment fails to amuse him, he always has himself and his thoughts to fall back on.

 

Today has been somewhat productive. Turns out his camera needed a good clearing. Harry almost filled up the entire memory card with photos, and it took him hours to filter out the good ones. If there’s ever a _really_ good one, he’ll take extra care and time with tweaking the photo settings. It’s almost as fun as taking the actual photo.

 

Niall finally arrives a few minutes after Harry starts running out of things to think of, slightly out of breath and with a beaming smile on his face.

 

‘’Did you run here?’’ Harry asks before Niall can say anything. His friend is a bit red in the face, which he sometimes gets during the summer, but this is different. ‘’Why are you smiling like that?’’

 

Niall scoffs. ‘’I didn’t _run_ here. Just didn’t want to be late.’’

 

‘’Right.’’ Harry takes a sip of his wine and nods towards the empty seat. ‘’Then what’s with the smile?’’

 

‘’Can’t a man be happy?’’ Niall jokes, waving at the barman. He orders his drink before turning back to Harry again, who is now incredibly curious.

 

‘’Not saying you can’t be. You know what I mean, idiot.’’ The idiot comes out rather fond, but Harry doesn’t mean for it to be anything else. Niall is one of the few people that don’t push any wrong buttons, never let him down, and are genuinely fun to spend time with.

 

‘’Of course. I’m just stalling,’’ he says, to which Harry rolls his eyes.

 

‘’That much is obvious.’’

 

‘’Speaking of,’’ Niall pauses to accept his beer, ‘’you should be careful, because you’re _obviously_ close to sliding off your seat. I know people like to use the saying ‘’on the edge of your seat,’’ but I never knew it to be true.’’

 

‘’I’m not-’’ Harry scoots further back up his seat -’’shut up.’’

 

‘’Do you really want me to?’’

 

‘’ _No_ ,’’ Harry huffs. ‘’I want you to tell me about your day and what’s got you so cheerful.’’

 

‘’That’s sweet.’’

 

Harry takes a rather large sip of his wine. ‘’You’ve been talking to Louis too much; you’re beginning to sound like him.’’

 

This makes Niall laugh. ‘’And the world can only handle one of him at a time.’’

 

‘’I know _I_ can.’’

 

‘’Alright, I’ll tell you.’’ Harry watches as Niall drags a coaster around with his finger, trying to come across as nonchalant. It doesn’t really work on Harry. ‘’I asked Sarah out.’’

 

‘’Sarah?’’ It takes a moment for him to realise who he’s talking about. ‘’The persistent one that kept requesting the same song?’’

 

‘’That’s the one. She’s still persistent, but now requests a different song each time.’’ Niall sighs and finally meets Harry’s eyes. ‘’I got curious, you know?’’

 

‘’What she’d be like?’’ Harry motions to the barman for a refill, meeting Niall’s gaze again after. ‘’She say yes?’’

 

‘’She did, and yes.’’ Niall takes a gulp of his beer. ‘’We’ve been texting.’’

 

‘’Good. That’s… good.’’

 

‘’You don’t sound very sure.’’

 

Harry takes a sip of his refilled glass, using it as an excuse to think a bit longer. ‘’I just want you to be careful.’’

 

‘’I know. I will be.’’

 

That puts Harry at ease, but he knows Niall is sensible. More so than Harry. Sensible in the way that he doesn’t let himself get carried away by his own thoughts and worries, something Harry struggles with. Usually it just leads to embarrassing situations. Other times to relationships he had trouble getting out of. He’s dead awful at ‘ripping off the band-aid’, while Niall does the right thing regardless of how difficult it is. Harry really admires him for that.

 

‘’A toast, then.’’ Harry holds up his wineglass. ‘’May your date be… not awful.’’

 

Niall laughs and shakes his head. ‘’Sometimes I wonder if you should even be allowed to speak.’’

 

‘’I know words aren’t my forte, Niall.’’ He’s still holding up his glass, raising his eyebrow in an impatient gesture.

 

‘’ _Fine_ ,’’ Niall sighs, holding up his glass, ‘’to my hopefully _not awful_ date.’’

 

***

 

Thursday happens to come with an obnoxious amount of rain.

 

It hasn’t stopped since this morning, and Harry had already resigned himself to staying inside after work, until Cassandra roped him into dinner. Alright, dinner was nice. They chatted so much Harry isn’t sure how his mouth is still working, and as a result their friendship has gotten stronger. It’s an exhilarating feeling. After dinner he hurried home, hunched under his umbrella, only to find the rain had stopped when he arrived in his street.

 

Now he’s standing on his balcony, watching the clear sky with an unbelieving expression. He can’t quite make out any stars, but there certainly aren’t any clouds left. The air feels clammy, although the temperature has dropped to a more acceptable level.

 

Not everything about rain is bad. He enjoys the smell of the air afterwards, how the world feels almost cleaner. Likes hearing the small _drip, drip, drip_ of raindrops after the downpour has passed. On days when he’s not planning to go outside, he likes the background noise it gives. Also, it waters the plant on his balcony. Harry keeps forgetting about it and it was just on the verge of dying. It should be fine now.

 

He sniffles the air a last time before he decides to head back inside, only to stop in his tracks when the neighbouring balcony door slides open.

 

‘’Zayn.’’ The name is out of his mouth before Harry could stop himself. Surprise does that to you.

 

‘’Wha-’’ Zayn looks his way, startled. Harry can see something in his hand, but he doesn’t get the chance to properly look before his eyes meet Zayn’s.

 

‘’Hey,’’ he says tentatively. He doesn’t know why he’s being careful. They spoke this morning and everything was fine, then. Maybe it’s just this moment, how fragile it feels to stand under the moonlight with no noise around them. No real ending like their mornings when they’re separated by time.

 

Zayn nods, smiling softly. ‘’Hey.’’ Harry can see the item in his hand now that he’s shifted; a bottle of wine, still unopened. Suddenly he feels like he’s interrupting something, like maybe Zayn just wanted some time alone and is now forced to spend it with him.

 

‘’I could-’’ Harry motions towards the bottle Zayn’s holding -’’I could go.’’

 

‘’No!’’ It comes out rushed, and Harry catches Zayn wincing at himself, if only a tiny bit. ‘’Stay. Celebrate with me.’’

 

‘’Celebrate?’’ Harry asks, intrigued.

 

‘’Finally got a permanent position at my school,’’ Zayn holds up the bottle ‘’they gave me this, too.’’

 

‘’How come you didn’t have one yet?’’

 

Zayn hums, placing down the bottle on the floor and leaning against the wall. ‘’Couldn’t. Not until this older man retired.’’ He waves his hand in a dismissive gesture. ‘’Doesn’t matter. Got it now.’’

 

‘’Yeah.’’ Harry smiles, feeling his heart jump a little at Zayn’s answering one. ‘’Congratulations. And, I’ll stay.’’

 

‘’Thank you.’’ Zayn goes to pick up the bottle again, but pauses. ‘’Um, I don’t have wine glasses.’’

 

‘’I’ll go get mine. You brought the wine, I’ll do the dishes.’’ He shrugs. ‘’It’s only fair.’’

 

‘’Alright. I’ll be here.’’

 

Harry breezes back inside, his heart suddenly pounding inside his chest. Zayn wanted him to _stay_ , spend time with him. He makes himself take deep breaths to calm himself down while he goes to his kitchen to retrieve the glasses. They clink in his hands, sounding incredibly loud in the silence of his home. He rolls his shoulders, tries to shake off any tension and carries the glasses back with a smile on his face.

 

They’re silent while Zayn pours a liberal amount of wine into their glasses, shrugging when he catches Harry’s questioning gaze. No words are exchanged when they bump their glasses together and take a sip, taking in the flavour. Harry’s surprised; expected something much sharper, but the liquid in his mouth is mellow, only a little tangy. Doesn’t burn as much as some much cheaper wines have.

 

‘’It’s good.’’ Zayn sounds surprised as well.

 

‘’Yeah.’’ Harry’s throat feels dry, his fingers a little cramped around the stem of the glass. He takes a bigger sip this time, feeling the warmth spreading through his chest. Still, he can’t shake the feeling that he’s stealing something. An evening that wasn’t meant for him.

 

‘’Liam couldn’t join you?’’ he asks, fitting his glass in his palm, with the stem lodged between his fingers. This way he’s not as scared of dropping his glass.

 

Something shifts in Zayn’s features, but Harry can’t decipher it. ‘’No, he’s at home.’’ He takes another sip before explaining. ‘’The journey here takes a while. He’s got work in the morning.’’

 

‘’Ah.’’ Harry nods, trying to appear understanding. Really, he’s just relieved. Doesn’t feel as guilty knowing he’s the second choice.

 

‘’You know…’’ Zayn starts, looking down into his glass. Harry recognises it as a way to avoid eye contact, does it himself too many times. ‘’You two seem to be getting along quite well.’’

 

Something clicks, like the final puzzle piece falling into place. Harry feels a bit stupid for not having seen it before, but it’s kind of obvious now. How Zayn has been acting _off_ , not like the person Harry knew him to be before Liam came into the picture. Those looks Zayn kept giving him, calculating and on the edge of unfriendly.

 

‘’Oh.’’ It comes out on a breath, punched out of him with the realisation. Zayn thinks he’s trying to steal Liam from him, which couldn’t be further from the truth.

 

If only he knew.

 

‘’That - I would _never_ do that, okay? He’s cool and I like him, but not like that.’’ Harry takes a deep breath, makes his voice softer. ‘’I would never do that to you.’’

 

Zayn’s expression seems to grow heavier and lighter at the same time. Less guarded, more open with his frustration. ‘’Sorry,’’ he runs a hand through his hair, ‘’I’m just paranoid.’’

 

‘’No need to apologise.’’ Harry winks, tries to lighten up the mood. ‘’I’ve been told I make people fall like flies.’’

 

‘’The expression is _drop_ like flies, and-’’ Zayn narrows his eyes at him- ’’you did that on purpose, didn’t you?’’

 

Harry snorts. ‘’Make myself look like an idiot? Don’t need to do that on purpose.’’

 

The smile he receives in return is something that spreads a warmth through his chest much like the wine did earlier. Only this doesn’t stop at his chest, creeps through his arms and legs all the way to his fingers and toes instead. Every time he sees Zayn smile he’s enchanted all over again, and every time it makes him sad. He’s just waiting for this stupid crush to end so he can move on, really.

 

‘’You’re funny,’’ Zayn says, placing the glass at his lips to take a drink, but his eyes are still smiling.

 

For a moment Harry thinks he knows why the sky is empty, because all the stars are in Zayn’s eyes.

 

***

 

It’s Friday evening, and Niall’s call is a pleasant surprise. Harry wasn’t doing much of anything, just lounging on his sofa with a book lying forgotten in his lap as he watched some television, when his phone started ringing. He had to dig it up from between the couch cushions, but managed to answer it after only a few rings.

 

‘’Niall! What’s up?’’

 

‘’ _I need you to save my evening_ ,’’ Niall’s voice comes through, sounding somewhat distressed.

 

Harry places his book down and lowers the volume of the television. ‘’Why? What happened?’’

 

‘’ _You know about my date, right? It was tonight and… well, it was shite. No chemistry, boring, dull, uninteresting, and all the other words I can’t come up with right now._ ’’

 

‘’Sorry about that. Also, that’s a lot of words.’’ Harry knows where this is going, so he shuts off the television and gets up.

 

‘’ _Yeah, thanks._ ’’ Niall rambles on some more while Harry hums and ‘’uh huh’s’’ in the right places. In the meantime he’s going through his closet, picking out a nice outfit. He has no clue where they’re going yet, but he wants to dress nicely for a change.

 

‘’ _Hey, I’m almost at your place. You better get ready because we’re going out_.’’

 

‘’Already got my outfit ready,’’ Harry says, checking his black blouse for any crinkles. There aren’t any, which might be because it’s a soft and flowy fabric. Slightly see through as well, but only if you look very closely. It’s one of the few things he owns that he’s proud of, and knows he looks damn good in.

 

‘’ _Already?_ ’’ Niall sounds surprised, to which Harry only grins to himself. ‘’ _I’ll be outside. Don’t take too long, okay?_ ’’

 

‘’Don’t worry, I won’t.’’ Harry hangs up then, and starts getting ready.

 

Only ten minutes later he’s ready, during which most of his time was spent trying to get into his black jeans and deciding what to do with his hair. Most days it’s up in a bun, so he figured he could wear it down for once. After haphazardly spritzing on some cologne, he hurries towards his front door, boots clacking against the wooden floor, and finds himself surprised once he opens it.

 

‘’Harry!’’ He’s greeted by a chorus of voices, belonging to Zayn, Liam, and Niall.

 

‘’What,’’ is all he can say as he stares, dumbfounded. Niall would meet him _outside_. This isn’t outside. Then it dawns on him that one of the other two must have let him in.

 

‘’We were just chatting, while you were busy getting pretty.’’ Niall claps a hand on his shoulder. Harry just glares at him. ‘’ _Jeez_ Harry. _Prettier_ , okay? That better?’’

 

Zayn coughs. ‘’You look nice,’’ he says. Of course he’s just trying to be polite, but Harry can feel his cheeks heat up.

 

‘’Great, now that we’ve fed Harry’s ego, I think it’s time to leave.’’

 

‘’What!’’ Harry exclaims, pushing Niall’s hand off his shoulder. ‘’ _You’re_ the one that needed saving.’’

 

‘’Don’t listen to him.’’ Niall steers Harry towards the stairwell. ‘’His ego’s gotten too big, doesn’t know what he’s saying!’’

 

Harry can hear Zayn and Liam’s laughs as they retreat down the stairwell. He’s sending fake glares in Niall’s direction, trying not to grin when his friend makes silly faces. Harry doesn’t mind being joked about every once in a while. His mum says it makes you humble, while keeping others entertained. It’s really not such a bad thing.

 

‘’Hey.’’ Niall bumps his shoulder when they set foot outside. ‘’Just saying, your crush is totally justified. I’m not into blokes, and even I wouldn’t say no, you know?’’

 

‘’Niall!’’

 

He only gets a loud laugh in return, and Niall’s hands tugging on his arm. ‘’Come on, you need a good time just as much as I do.’’

 

Well, he’s not wrong.

 

*

 

A few hours - and many drinks - later, Harry feels exponentially better. It’s almost like he’s watching a movie; everything blurry around the edges, shadows heavy where the soft light won’t reach. Giggles escape him unguarded, because everything seems funny. Niall’s left him at the bar to go entertain a group of girls, but Harry doesn’t mind. He’s not alone.

 

Most of the drinks he’s consumed weren’t bought with his own money, which he stopped feeling guilty about a few cheap cocktails ago. Nico is the buyer’s name, and he is sitting a few stools away from Harry, smiling dopily at him and shooing any other admirers away. It saves Harry from having to decline their advances himself. Maybe he shouldn’t be using Nico like this, but the man doesn’t seem to mind.

 

Nico isn’t so bad, Harry thinks. He has pretty eyes, so dark they’re almost black, and an infectious smile. Only it doesn’t start a fire in him, doesn’t- He shakes his head, hoping it will get rid of the thoughts that would just kill his buzz. No, he’s here to enjoy himself, and he is. His limbs feel loose, warm, and less in his control. It would probably be smart to not drink any more after this one, he realises, staring down into the remaining contents of his glass. There are a few tiny chunks of ice left, which he stirs around with his straw.

 

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Niall approaching, and Harry turns towards Nico. ‘’He’s my friend!’’ he says, hand grabbing onto Niall’s shoulder when he stops to stand next to Harry. Nico nods, holds up his own glass as a greeting, and proceeds to stare off into the distance, or whatever he’s been doing. Probably ogling Harry, but he hasn’t tried anything yet, which is very much appreciated.

 

‘’Enjoying yourself?’’ Niall asks, planting himself down on a stool.

 

‘’Yes.’’ Harry goes to take a sip of his drink, but finds it’s empty. _Huh_. When did that happen?

 

‘’Whozat?’’ Harry follows Niall’s pointing finger to Nico.

 

‘’Nico has been buying me drinks.’’ Maybe he’s having some difficulty with the longer sentences, speech going extremely slow.

 

‘’Sound like it.’’ Harry almost falls off his stool trying to avoid Niall’s fist bump to the shoulder.

 

‘’You should hear yourself.’’ It’s a weak retort, but his mind isn’t exactly sharp right now. Nor is his eyesight. Now he thinks about it, he’s feeling rather tired. In a good way, though.

 

‘’I think,’’ Niall hides a yawn behind his hand, ‘’we should head home.’’

 

Harry nods, but quickly stops because it’s making his head spin. ‘’Yup.’’ Neither of them make a move though, instead they keep staring out in front of them.

 

‘’We should go,’’ Niall repeats.

 

‘’We z… zss-’’ Harry gives up on trying to pronounce the word _should_ , and smacks himself on the forehead. ‘’Ni.’’

 

‘’Thaz me.’’ Niall blinks at him, looking surprised for some reason. It’s so _stupid_.

 

Harry breaks out into giggles, stomach jumping with every laugh. ‘’You… are red.’’

 

‘’Wha?’’

 

‘’Your _face_.’’ Harry’s full on laughing now, whole body shaking.

 

Niall smacks him on the arm. ‘’You shite. Little.’’ His hand clamps down onto Harry’s bicep. ‘’Fuck.’’

 

After calming down and taking a few good, deep breaths, he finally finds the strength to get off his stool. For some reason it feels like his head isn’t supposed to be this high up, like it could float away any second. Harry drags down Niall as well, almost taking both of them tumbling to the floor. He’s sure Niall calls him an idiot, but he doesn’t really care. All his concentration goes towards walking. More specifically, towards Nico.

 

‘’Heey, you.’’ Harry stops next to the man, his hand grabbing onto his shoulder to balance himself. ‘’Thank you,’’ he says, hoping he sounds very sincere.

 

Nico smiles again, eyes crinkling at the sides. ‘’Angels shouldn’t have to buy their own drinks.’’

 

Harry honestly doesn’t have any words for that, so he settles on placing a popping kiss on Nico’s cheek. Somehow it reminds him of cheek kisses he gives to the kids at the daycare sometimes. He giggles.

 

‘’Be careful.’’ Nico pats Harry’s hand, still gripping onto his shoulder.

 

‘’Got my-’’ Harry turns to point at Niall- ‘’guardian over there.’’

 

Said guardian is impatiently waiting at the door, waving him over. Harry staggers away from Nico with a last goodbye and once again concentrates very hard on placing his feet down the right way. Once they’re outside, the air hits him like a freight train. It’s much cooler than the inside of the pub, not so stuffy and stale. His head spins, and he grabs onto Niall for balance.

 

‘’Shiiit,’’ he drags the word out, blinking his eyes wildly.

 

‘’Bro,’’ Niall breathes, looping his arm through Harry’s and starting to walk.

 

‘’ _Bro_.’’ Harry laughs, buries his face in Niall’s shoulder. ‘’I’m _pissed_.’’

 

‘’No shite.’’ It’s easier to walk with Niall guiding him, although sometimes he forgets he still has to do the walking himself.

 

Harry’s apartment is closer, and when they reach it there’s no need to discuss whether Niall will be staying or not. They stumble up the stairs together, stopping halfway to laugh themselves breathless. For what, he doesn’t know. All he knows is that it feels good. Opening the door is a whole other challenge, with both of them taking turns getting the key in the lock, but they’re both shaking from laughing and it’s just _so difficult_.

 

‘’We’re fucked,’’ Harry says, sinking down to the floor with his back resting against the wall.

 

Niall drops the keys in his lap and joins him. ‘’Very much indeed so.’’

 

They’re back to laughing now, but this time it’s at their situation, because who is too drunk to open their door? Harry’s brushing away the tears leaking from his eyes, nearly doubled over on himself. When he sits back up his head spins out of control, making him sag to the side.

 

‘’Whoops,’’ he mumbles. A door opening attracts their attention, and Harry tries to see what’s going on from where he’s lying on the floor. It’s Zayn, and suddenly Harry feels _happy_. Even if the man looks confused and sleep ruffled, holding a half-full glass of water in one hand.

 

‘’I heard voices,’’ Zayn says, stopping to stand in front of them.

 

‘’ _That_ ,’’ Harry holds up a finger, ‘’can not be good.’’

 

‘’ _Jesus_ , how drunk are you two?’’ Harry watches Zayn kneel down, gives a surprised grunt when he helps him sit up.

 

‘’Couldn’t open door,’’ Niall whines, picking up the keys and shoving them in Zayn’s direction, who just rolls his eyes and goes to open the door for them.

 

Harry, who is sitting by now, hugs onto Zayn’s leg when he comes back to help them stand up. ‘’Our saviour!’’

 

‘’Yeah, yeah. Can you walk?’’

 

‘’Like a model!’’

 

Niall laughs at Harry’s reply. ‘’Not you. You walk like… soap.’’

 

‘’Wha?’’ He’s holding onto Niall again, feeling Zayn’s steadying hand burn into his back. Maybe he leans into it a bit, maybe not.

 

‘’Can’t get a grip.’’ Niall’s biting down on his lip, trying not to grin.

 

‘’ _Whoa_.’’ Harry is impressed, almost loses his balance when he shakes Niall’s shoulder. ‘’Smart.’’

 

‘’You two,’’ Zayn’s voice breaks through their giggles, ‘’get some rest. And drink water!’’

 

Harry is sad when Niall closes the door behind them, because Zayn is on the other side. He’d rather be there. Zayn with his pretty smile, and pretty eyes. His warm hands, helping them, helping _Harry_. That soft looking black hair. He looked very handsome. Harry tries to remember what Zayn was wearing, but the picture is blurry in his mind. He’s so good, so nice.

 

‘’Harry.’’ It’s Niall, tugging on Harry’s hand. He blinks, finds that they’re in his bedroom, standing at the foot of his bed.

 

‘’Yeah,’’ he says, voice suddenly feeling hoarse. His eyes water when he turns on the bathroom light, trying to concentrate enough to find the spare toothbrush in one of the cabinets. The minty freshness of the toothpaste and ice cold water help him regain some clarity, enough to shoo Niall out of the bathroom so he can relieve himself.

 

Taking off his pants proves to be difficult, but with Niall’s help it’s done and before he knows it he’s down to only his boxers, with his face pressed into his pillow. It feels like he’s suddenly holding up the earth, sleep weighing so heavily on him that he’s sure he won’t be able to move. The sheets are moving, pulled up to his shoulders. Harry thinks he makes a noise, but he has no clue what kind.

 

He doesn’t even have time to think about sleep before he’s taken by it.

 

***

 

The next morning comes completely unbidden, and when Harry blinks open an eye to peek at his alarm clock, he discovers it isn’t even morning anymore. It’s just past noon. And Saturday. _Fuck_ , he thinks. He didn’t even get to go to the bakery yet. It would be closed by the time he’s up and about. _If_ he can get up. How long did he sleep? He has no clue what time they went to sleep, feels like it might have been only an hour ago.

 

Slowly but surely he pushes himself up, squeezing his eyes shut against the dizziness. It’s not so bad, but still makes his head pound afterwards. Definitely a hangover. When he blinks his eyes open again he sees Niall is still fast asleep, one leg dangling off the edge of the bed. That man could sleep through pretty much anything.

 

Harry tries to be as quiet as possible on his way to the bathroom, becoming more aware of the rest of his body. His mouth is dry, as if he tried to swallow the Sahara. Also, his bladder is very full. The rest of his body just feels sticky, like he’s been sweating all night. A shower is a must. But first, he needs a glass of water and something for his headache. And his teeth, he needs to brush those.

 

The entire time it’s like he’s forgotten his entire morning routine, struggling to remember steps he usually takes. Eventually he gets it done, finding himself walking back into his bedroom to grab fresh clothes. Niall is still asleep. Perhaps Harry should wake him up. Just as he is about to do it, there’s knocking. It takes Harry a few seconds to process it, realising it’s coming from the front door. He should probably open it.

 

It’s Liam, carrying a plastic bag. ‘’Good, you’re awake.’’

 

Harry needs to cough a few times and clear his throat before words will even come out. ‘’Yeah, I am.’’

 

‘’Rough night?’’

 

‘’A bit, but worth it.’’

 

Apparently Liam came to him to tell him more details about the wedding, which is happening in just four weeks. The theme is prom, which Harry finds kind of odd. Why would weddings need themes? Isn’t a wedding a theme in itself? And _if_ weddings were to have themes, why prom? That doesn’t change much, does it? Oh no, is Harry going to need a date? He asks Liam as much, who just rolls his eyes.

 

‘’Harry, you’re the photographer. Think of the camera as your date.’’

 

Fine, he can do that. It’s probably better, he wouldn’t have time for his date anyway. And the only person he would consider taking is, well, unavailable. Thinking about that just makes him feel guilty, so when Liam mentions payment he just waves his hands around and shakes his head.

 

‘’She can pay me in, like, food. I don’t need much.’’

 

Liam just frowns. ‘’Are you sure? It’s still a lot of work.’’

 

‘’Yes!’’ Maybe he said that too quickly. Liam doesn’t look convinced. ‘’I’ll be having a grand ol’ time taking photos. It’s my hobby, Liam. Also, I eat a lot.’’

 

‘’If you say so…’’ Liam holds out the bag he’s been carrying the entire time. ‘’Consider this part of your payment.’’

 

Harry takes the bag and looks inside, spotting his usual order at Al’s, plus some extra baked goods. ‘’Wow, thanks!’’

 

‘’Yeah, missed you this morning. So, I figured, you know…’’

 

‘’That’s sweet.’’ Honestly, Harry could kiss Liam right now. He doesn’t, of course. Just gives him a quick hug and a few pats on the shoulder.

 

‘’Like I said, part of the payment.’’

 

‘’I could get used to this,’’ Harry says, grinning.

 

Liam’s eyes widen. ‘’No.’’

 

‘’You’re so rude, Liam.’’

 

‘’And you’re an idiot.’’

 

Harry shrugs. ‘’True.’’

 

***

 

The universe doesn’t seem to be quite finished with embarrassing Harry. He was getting ready for bed because it’s Sunday and he has to get up early tomorrow, but then someone ends up knocking on his door. That someone being Zayn.

 

‘’Harry!’’ Zayn sounds relieved. For what reason, Harry doesn’t know. ‘’Sorry for bothering you…’’

 

‘’You’re not.’’ Harry leans against his doorframe, crossing his arms. ‘’I was just getting ready for bed.’’

 

‘’I can see that.’’ Really, it _is_ obvious. Harry’s wearing a plain white T-shirt and the smiley pj pants that Niall gave him for Christmas a few years back. He’s sure he looks absolutely ridiculous.

 

‘’Did you need help?’’ Zayn looks like he needs reminding. Also, Harry is trying to steer the attention away from his attire. It seems to work.

 

‘’Sort of?’’ Zayn is wringing his hands together, his eyes drifting off to somewhere over Harry’s shoulder. ‘’I locked myself out.’’

 

‘’Oh, you need to call someone?’’ Harry opens his door all the way, allowing Zayn to walk inside before closing it again. He feels oddly vulnerable, standing barefoot in his own hallway across a still fully dressed Zayn.

 

‘’Actually, I thought I could just climb over onto my balcony? I never lock that door.’’

 

It’s absolutely ridiculous, Harry thinks. Okay, it’s also smart because it wasn’t even an option in his mind, and it’s a totally easy and quick solution. Oh yeah, and _not safe_.

 

‘’That doesn’t sound safe.’’

 

Zayn sighs, scratches at his stubble. ‘’It’s only a small gap, yeah? I can easily get over it.’’

 

‘’Wow, you’re serious.’’ He walks past Zayn to take a seat on the arm of his couch. ‘’And insane,’’ he adds.

 

‘’Yes,’’ Zayn moves to stand in front of Harry, ‘’and no.’’ There’s a moment of silence where Harry watches Zayn look around with a frown on his face, head tilted. ‘’I’ve never been in your apartment.’’

 

‘’I’ve never been in yours.’’ Harry doesn’t mean it the way it sounds; challenging, almost. Or suggestive. There’s a new kind of tension that Zayn obviously tries to break with a smile.

 

‘’Not much of a difference, honestly.’’

 

Harry takes the out gladly. ‘’I imagine not, apart from decoration. Louis’ apartment is the same.’’ He chuckles, pats a cushion behind him. ‘’There isn’t much room for a couch anywhere else, and with the electricity and everything you’re pretty much forced to furnish it this way.’’

 

‘’True,’’ Zayn admits with a smile. ‘’My couch is in exactly the same spot.’’

 

‘’No room for creativity, whatsoever.’’ There really isn’t. Whenever he sees a nice piece of furniture in one of the shops downtown, he’s once again reminded of the fact that his apartment is tiny and does not have room for anything more. That would mean having to get rid of other things, which he doesn’t want to do either. So he’s just stuck in a frustrating cycle.

 

‘’Then why did you move here?’’

 

‘’Location, and it’s cheap.’’ He feels rude to be the only one sitting, so he stands again, fumbling with the strings on his pants. ‘’Why did _you_ move here?’’

 

Zayn smiles. ‘’Same reasons.’’

 

‘’Speaking of moving,’’ he edges towards his bedroom door, ‘’we should be getting you home.’’

 

‘’Right.’’

 

Harry hesitates before he opens the door, because this is a very private place, and his _bedroom_. All sorts of things go through his mind that he tries not to pay attention to, trying to remain focused on passing through his bedroom - just another room, really - to open his balcony door. He glances over his shoulder to see if Zayn followed, breath catching when he appears to be closer than expected, their eyes meeting. There’s an odd feeling he can’t describe, but it’s pressing and uncomfortable.

 

‘’You okay?’’ Zayn’s voice is nearly a whisper. Harry blinks, nodding and sliding open his balcony door.

 

‘’Be careful.’’ Harry wants to hit himself because he sounds so _dramatic_ , as if he’s watching Zayn try to jump over a canyon. Only he’s genuinely afraid. Now that he thinks about it, he’s so afraid of Zayn getting hurt - in any situation - that he’s not quite sure what to do with that. With the intense worrying and other feelings that happen to go along with that. _The other feelings_. Oh crap.

 

Zayn’s hand on his shoulder brings him out of his inner turmoil. ‘’Of course.’’

 

Harry follows him onto the balcony on autopilot, hands tensed and ready to reach out if he ever needed to. He really hopes he doesn’t have to.

 

‘’See? Told you it’s not that big a gap.’’

 

Turns out he doesn’t have to. Obviously he’s relieved that Zayn climbed over it in just a second, but part of him is… disappointed? Sad that he didn’t get to touch. His hands feel empty at his sides.

 

‘’Don’t make it a habit, though.’’

 

‘’I won’t.’’ Zayn slides open his own door, sighing. ‘’I’m definitely never locking this door.’’

 

 _Or you could give me a spare key_. ‘’Yeah, good thinking.’’

 

‘’Goodnight, Harry.’’

 

Somewhere, Harry is aware of his own voice wishing Zayn a good night, his hand moving to open and close his balcony door. It’s just him in his bedroom now. Alone. The pressing feeling from earlier just shoots off and seems to multiply itself, leaving Harry’s brain behind and trying to catch up in vain.

 

‘’Oh crap.’’ His voice comes out so soft it almost sounds like a sigh. ‘’Shit.’’

 

His crush was supposed to get less with time, but it’s been _weeks_ and it’s done nothing but fester and- It’s not doing what it should do. How could he let this happen? There was perfect logic behind getting to know Zayn and hoping friendship would mellow things out. It did the complete opposite. Only added onto it. For the life of him Harry can’t remember whose idea it was but it was a terrible one to begin with, even if the logic was sound at first.

 

If it worked out this terribly, it must have been his own idea. Of course it is, but maybe it did work out the way he planned it to?

 

When Harry thinks back to all the morning chats, and the in between ones he gets if he’s lucky, it does appear to have mellowed. He can talk to Zayn, enjoy his company, without feeling overwhelmed. Appreciates Zayn for more than what he looks like. So he might not be swooning over Zayn like a teenager anymore, but now he has _feelings_. Harry doesn’t know what’s worse.

 

Alright, he does know. Definitely the latter.

 

***

 

Harry wakes up early after a fitful sleep, the restlessness from last night seeming to cling to him like a second skin. It’s too early to get up, but he does it anyway. Mostly because he knows he isn’t going to fall back asleep, and the almost hour he could get wouldn’t do him much good. And it just so happens to mean he won’t bump into Zayn. Not that he’s avoiding his neighbour. He could use some alone time, is all. Not seeing Zayn definitely isn’t a motivation to leave early.

 

As soon as he closes his apartment door behind him, he knows it is.

 

It’s oddly quiet on his way down, and he doesn’t have anyone to talk to about how chilly the morning is when he shivers after stepping outside. Already he misses Zayn’s quiet chattering about the bad grades he’s going to have to return today, to which Harry has to remind him it’s just a part of school and doesn’t make him a bad person. Then it would be his turn to talk, about anything, while Zayn watches him with that travel mug clutched in his hands. Always the travel mug. Zayn gave him a sip of his coffee once, but it was too strong for Harry.

 

Harry starts, realising he’s been standing outside, lost in thought. Missing Zayn, who would probably be getting up and ready now. With heavy feet, Harry heads towards work, trying to cheer himself up with the thought that it’s only one morning. Everything will be back to normal tomorrow.

 

Apparently his sour mood shows, because as soon Cassandra walks in and sees his face, she’s all up in his business.

 

‘’What happened?’’

 

‘’Nothing,’’ he says, moving a snoozing child over to the pillow corner. There’s no use trying to keep them awake.

 

She follows him around. ‘’Doesn’t look like it.’’

 

He turns, trying to soothe his expression into something more neutral. ‘’You dyed your hair black,’’ he ignores the way she rolls her eyes, ‘’it looks good.’’

 

‘’It’s my natural hair colour, of course it looks good. And don’t change the subject.’’ She pushes him into a corner, away from the children, even if their tiny ears couldn’t pick anything up with how softly she’s speaking. ‘’Did something happen?’’

 

‘’No?’’ Harry isn’t sure if his late night realisation qualifies as _something happening_ , but he also isn’t too sure what his realisation was about. Okay so he knows what it’s about, but not how severe it is. He’s on the spectrum of _like_ with Zayn, but too afraid to admit where exactly.

 

Cass blinks at him, takes a deep breath. ‘’You’re early.’’ As if that explains everything.

 

‘’I know that.’’ He also knows he’s being a little shit. She’s only trying to be nice, but he can’t help being difficult about it.

 

‘’No, you’re _early_. You haven’t been this early since… When was it that Zayn moved in?’’

 

Harry shrugs. ‘’Two months. Ish?’’

 

‘’It’s been two months, and now you’re early again. Looking like this.’’ She takes his hand, squeezes it softly. ‘’I’m worried.’’

 

He tugs on her hand, pulling her in for a hug. There’s something soothing about her perfume, the way her small hands rub against his back. ‘’It’s not just a crush anymore,’’ he confesses. They don’t break up the hug, just talk into the air, chins resting on shoulders. It’s easier for Harry like this.

 

‘’Do you think you’re in love with him?’’

 

There’s that word. _Love_. It makes him nervous, because for him it means long term, means it’s serious and that he’s not getting out of it unscathed. It’s going to hurt, more than it hurts right now. She must sense the way his breath catches, because she squeezes him tight. He doesn’t have to say it; she already knows.

 

‘’I’m sorry, darling.’’ She pulls away, rubbing his arms up and down and smiling brightly. ‘’Why don’t you go play with the kids?’’

 

Harry nods. ‘’Thanks.’’ He feels a large part of his sour mood slip away when she kisses his cheek and shoves him in the direction of the play corner. There’s room for him at the doll house, and he gladly joins in with the children, complying when they make him play with the grandfather doll because he has the best voice for it.

 

They’re totally right.

 

*

 

On his way back home he can’t help but notice how much lighter he feels. Children will have that effect on you. And Cassandra, because she’s awesome. She can go from obnoxious younger sister to loving older sister in a heartbeat, and always knows which one you need the most, even if you don’t. Harry is lucky to have a coworker he gets along with so well. He can’t imagine what his job would be like if he had to work with another person. Probably not as fun.

 

Things worked out pretty well for him. He’s got a nice job, great friends, a roof over his head, and enough money to eat. It’s only _pretty_ well because he also is in love with a person who might as well be married. Sweethearts since high school tend to stick together. Maybe he’ll get over Zayn and find someone else, but he doesn’t know how he’s going to do that. He’s not exactly the dating around type; he prefers to get invested in a single person, get to know them properly. It takes up so much time and energy and he’s tried it before.

 

Eventually, things _will_ work out. He tells himself this as he opens the door to his apartment building, with his heart in his throat. He feels raw, like he’d been badly burnt and is still healing. It will take some time for everything to settle. Then he’ll be back to normal again. He just needs to-

 

He doesn’t know what he needs.

 

Nor does he get to think any further about what he needs, because he’s only halfway up the stairs until he runs into the very person he has been avoiding. Although avoiding is probably a strong word. More like ‘conveniently did not run into.’

 

‘’Harry!’’ Every time Zayn says his name it makes his heart skip a beat. It’s such a ridiculous reaction, but when it comes to him, Harry just can’t react normally. Even the hand Zayn placed on his arm to stop him is something he’s painfully aware of, like an itch that keeps calling attention to itself.

 

He swallows and conjures up a smile. ‘’Hey, Zayn.’’

 

‘’I missed you this morning.’’

 

Harry wants to say _I missed you too_ , or _I miss you all the time_ , but he can’t. Zayn probably doesn’t mean it the same way. ‘’I woke up too early. Not on purpose, though.’’

 

Zayn laughs. ‘’No, of course not.’’

 

‘’How was your day?’’ Harry asks, because he’s genuinely interested and doesn’t just ask to be polite. And also because he can’t come up with anything else but basic conversation ideas, since his brain is still stuck on the _I missed you this morning_.

 

Zayn seems to hesitate, teeth sinking into his bottom lip and eyes travelling down the stairs. ‘’Actually, I was just heading to the market.’’ It kind of sounds like a suggestion. Harry would be a fool if he didn’t take the opportunity. Okay, he’s a fool already, but not all the time.

 

‘’I could go with you. I need stuff.’’

 

‘’You need-’’ Zayn looks at him with that expression, the one that says ‘you’re weird but I like you’- ‘’stuff?’’

 

Harry nods fervently. ‘’Yes, I need stuff. Need it all the time.’’

 

‘’Then you should probably come with me.’’

 

‘’Excellent thinking.’’ Harry watches Zayn walk down a few steps before joining him, grinning wider than he probably should. It suddenly dawns on him what he needs. The thing he couldn’t think about earlier, because he was interrupted.

 

He just needs Zayn. Period. If he has him, as his neighbour, or his friend, things will be alright.

 

***

 

Harry’s trying to think at what point his reaction to Liam’s rambling went from slightly annoyed to fond. He’s barely gotten a word in himself on their way to the bakery, but he just patiently listens and nods whenever needed. Although it’s nice to not have to talk once in a while, especially when he hasn’t been awake for very long and his brain is still trying to get out of its slumber.

 

‘’...Oh, and I got a new job? I should have told you that first, shouldn’t I?’’ Liam stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

 

It takes Harry a few seconds to realise he has to respond with more than a simple nod. ‘’What? Oh, congratulations!’’

 

‘’You were totally zoning out, weren’t you?’’ Liam nudges their shoulders together. ‘’It’s alright, I don’t blame you. My rambling can get tiring.’’

 

‘’I don’t mind.’’ Harry hides a yawn behind his hand as they cross the street. ‘’But why a new job?’’

 

‘’Well, the location is better and it’s more modern. My old school refuses to go along with the times.’’

 

‘’Huh,’’ Harry says as he opens the door to the bakery, ‘’that’s weird.’’

 

‘’Their loss.’’ Liam throws in a wink over his shoulder before greeting Al. It really shows how long it’s been when even Liam can say he’ll get ‘’the usual.’’ Time flies and you don’t even realise it, not until you notice something that makes you do the math - a few times just to check - because it can _not_ have been that long. He shouldn’t be surprised, really. Time can only move forwards, anyway.

 

Once they’re on their way back, Liam levels him with a serious expression. ‘’So, I need to tell you some things about the wedding.’’

 

‘’Oh. Sure?’’

 

Liam waits for them both to enter the stairwell before he speaks again. ‘’You know, with the theme being prom and all, my sister wanted to have the couples take photos before they enter.’’

 

Harry pauses on the stairs. ‘’And you need me to take them.’’

 

‘’Well, yes. But I’m telling you because you’d need a- what’s it called? A tripod?’’

 

‘’I’ve got one of those, yeah.’’ They reach the top of the stairs, where Zayn is waiting for them. Even if he stopped being suspicious, he still waits and chats with Harry. It’s stupid how much it cheers him up, really.

 

‘’Morning, Zayn.’’ Harry’s surprised when Liam just pecks Zayn on the cheek and goes back inside, leaving the two of them alone. Every time he sees them act like a couple, he feels… It aches. It just reminds him of what he can’t do and how hopeless he really is.

 

‘’Hey, Harry. Doing anything fun today?’’

 

‘’Um.’’ _Freaking out, maybe?_ ‘’Not sure yet. Feel like I should take advantage of the good weather now we still have it.’’

 

Zayn just chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the side. ‘’Don’t jinx it now.’’

 

‘’The weather won’t do that. It loves me.’’

 

‘’You’re strange sometimes.’’ Harry knows Zayn doesn’t mean it is a bad thing because he’s still smiling, which makes Harry feel a bit lightheaded because it’s like he’s staring at the sun. Not that doing that would cause lightheadedness. Even his thinking is off.

 

‘’Only sometimes?’’ Harry does what he does best; make fun of himself. It’s his default mode when he can’t think properly.

 

Zayn nods at himself, as if he knows something Harry doesn’t. ‘’Yes, only sometimes. You’re not that bad.’’

 

‘’That is the most impressive compliment anyone has ever given me.’’

 

‘’Now you’re just pulling my leg,’’ Zayn deadpans.

 

‘’Who knows? Maybe I’m telling the truth. I’ve heard I can be strange, _sometimes_.’’

 

‘’You know,’’ Zayn says, slowly retreating into his apartment, ‘’I’m leaving, before I actually hit you.’’

 

‘’Sounds like you have some issues controlling your emotions.’’ Harry nods seriously, tapping his chin with his finger. ‘’You should see someone about that.’’

 

That gets him an actual laugh, one that bursts from Zayn’s lips in an adorable half-giggle. Harry doesn’t care how big his own smile is, because it feels _so good_ to make Zayn laugh. He’s practically high.

 

‘’See you, idiot.’’

 

He can’t even argue with that, because he _is_ an idiot, especially for Zayn.

 

***

 

Soon enough Harry discovers that ignoring something until it goes away doesn’t work. Or he just figured, ‘’if I don’t think about the wedding, I won’t worry about it.’’ That tactic actually worked until, you know, the day of the wedding arrived.

 

Which is today.

 

Today’s the wedding.

 

‘’Today is the wedding,’’ he tells himself, lying starfishes on his bed. Saying it out loud doesn’t help with anything, but it does prompt him to get up and out of bed. He’ll have to look presentable and make sure he has all his gear, even if he carefully stashed it away in a bag the previous night.

 

Breakfast goes down more difficult than he expected. His throat feels dry and there are nerves bubbling in his stomach. It’s a lot of responsibility, taking someone’s wedding photos. Even Liam’s reassurances that his sister, Ruth, doesn’t ask for much, seems to have less effect the closer he gets to the actual event.

 

And then there’s Liam and Zayn.

 

Seeing them at a wedding makes everything so much more real, and painful. Their relationship seems to be headed that way, to marriage and children and growing old together. With Harry watching everything from the sidelines. Watching the person he wants to be with be happy with somebody else. But at least Zayn would be happy. Zayn _is_ happy. Harry isn’t sure if he’s ever seen Zayn angry or sad, and realises he doesn’t want to.

 

Harry isn’t sure how he managed to fool himself, because it hurts. He thought he could lo- _care_ for Zayn, could accept his situation and move on. Boy, was he wrong. There is no telling how long it will take for his feelings to go away. If they ever do. And if, _how_ , because he can not imagine them fading on their own. He doesn’t want to think about anything bad happening, or maybe never seeing Zayn again. Those things sound more scary to him than Zayn never loving him back.

 

Oh. He thought it.

 

Zayn loving him _back_.

 

That sends his thoughts down an entirely different path, because, does he love Zayn? Then he’s thinking about his previous relationships, how in none of them he felt like _this_ , like he needs the other person and just the thought of them not being there scares him. Actually terrifies him.

 

Harry has honestly chosen the worst time to realise all this, staring down into his cereal bowl with his hair still drying, not fully dressed. It makes him feel naked and miserable. With a sigh he shovels down the rest of his cereal, wincing when it drags down his throat. It’s fine if he gets hungry later on. He’s getting paid in food anyway.

 

He lets himself mope and be miserable while he gets dressed, going for simple. Black slacks and his favourite silk blouse. Also black, but that’s fine. He’s supposed to blend in. It also saves him from having to buy new clothes. Even better.

 

A few minutes later he’s spraying on cologne and shouldering his bag, ready to leave. Or, as ready as he can be. Physically, he’s ready. He just has to suck it up, and do this.

 

He’s still standing in his hallway.

 

Until someone knocks on his door, forcing him to open it.

 

‘’You ready?’’ It’s a very excited and nicely dressed Liam. He’s wearing a light grey suit, which only brings out his tan more, making him look as if he was sculpted by the gods. Probably was, lucky bastard.

 

‘’Yeah.’’ Harry’s expression must convey the opposite, because Liam’s grabbing his shoulder and forcing their eyes to meet.

 

‘’You will do great.’’ Liam glances down at Harry’s shirt. ‘’And do up one extra button.’’

 

‘’ _Liam_ ,’’ Zayn sighs from where Harry can’t see him. ‘’Leave him-’’ Harry finally steps out of his apartment, closing the door behind him. ‘’Actually, make that two buttons.’’

 

Honestly, Harry tries not to gape at Zayn. Tries so hard but maybe fails a little bit, because he looks- gorgeous doesn’t even cut it. He’s wearing a navy blue suit, which just accents his slim waist and makes him look so firm, and Harry just really wants to hug him. Hug him really close so he can feel the warmth and the muscle and-

 

With a sigh he just does up two more buttons, because he can’t even be mad anymore.

 

‘’There,’’ he says, throwing his arms out to the side, ‘’happy?’’

 

‘’Very. Let’s go.’’ Liam pushes him towards the stairwell, where they all descend the stairs, the sounds of their shoes echoing heavily. Once they leave the building, they all pile into Liam’s car. Harry in the backseat, with his bag next to him. It’s going to be a long drive, especially with those two in the front seats.

 

They barely manage to drive out the street when Zayn clears his throat.

 

‘’I need to use the bathroom.’’

 

*

 

Apart from getting cramps in his legs and having a numb backside, the drive really wasn’t so bad.

 

They’ve reached the countryside, somewhere far away from the city, where there are lush trees and wide expanses of grass and just _so much space_. There isn’t a single cloud to be seen, only the sun shining down on them. Really, they chose the perfect day.

 

But the most impressive thing yet is the house. Mansion? Harry’s looking up at it with confusion, chewing on his bottom lip.

 

Zayn nudges his shoulder. ‘’They call it a French country chateau.’’

 

‘’How did you?’’ Harry has to bite down hard on his lip again, because Zayn is smiling his soft smile; not the blinding one, not the ‘’I know I’m gorgeous’’ one, but the one Harry doesn’t quite know the meaning behind yet.

 

‘’Your face speaks. Sometimes.’’

 

Harry groans at that. ‘’I have a feeling it isn’t just sometimes.’’

 

‘’It’s always,’’ Zayn says, scratching at his stubble, ‘’but I can only figure out the meaning sometimes.’’

 

‘’Oh.’’ Harry hopes Zayn can’t figure out the meaning right now, because something about Zayn saying _always_ just… It makes his stomach do funny things.

 

Liam chooses that moment to return to them, where they’re standing at the courtyard-like entrance. It’s really just a stone square surrounded by a low hedge, but it’s charming enough. There are two paths that probably lead to the gardens, disappearing between a collection of trees. Harry is honestly excited, because it’s a very beautiful place and should produce beautiful photographs. Maybe he’ll be fine after all.

 

‘’Harry!’’ Liam grasps his shoulder firmly. ‘’You’ll set up here.’’

 

‘’Here?’’

 

Liam nods. ‘’I’ll greet the guests at the entrance and send them over to you, _here_ , where they will stand on the bottom step in front of the house.’’

 

‘’And then I’ll do my thing. Got it.’’

 

‘’Excellent.’’ Liam finally lets him go, moving toward one of the paths. ‘’First I’ll show you around. Ruth said you might like that?’’

 

Harry smiles. ‘’Yeah, I do. Good to know the environment and all that.’’

 

‘’She’s always been a smart lady.’’

 

‘’Now Liam,’’ Harry says in a joking tone, catching up with him, ‘’don’t start tearing up already.’’

 

‘’Oh, _shut up_.’’

 

As suspected, the grounds are absolutely beautiful. Harry’s happy he is getting all this time to look around because it literally takes his breath away, and it won’t do him any good to get distracted while he’s actually trying to take photos.

 

The site of the ceremony is a short walk down the path, in the shade of a cluster of trees, which are adorned with flowers, all pink and white. The large wooden arch is wrapped in the same flowers, the smell of them permeating the air. He walks around the entire site, looking through his camera without snapping any shots. The lighting is the best he could hope for, with a perfect amount of daylight. He also has plenty of space to move around, which he might not have if there were walls or anything else that could be in his way. This should be a piece of cake, really.

 

They take a detour to the chateau, ending up in the backyard, which is truly a sight to behold. There are tables scattered all over the place, with an impressive dance floor in the middle. The trees have lanterns in them, and Harry can’t wait to see them lit. It honestly looks like a fairytale.

 

‘’You look excited,’’ Zayn comments when he goes to join Harry, who is enthusiastically walking around and inspecting every inch of the place.

 

‘’It’s because I am.’’ He stops in his tracks, testing which height is best for taking photos. ‘’It looks absolutely amazing here. Just _imagine_ what the photos would look like.’’

 

‘’Since you’re taking them, I’d assume magical?’’

 

Harry expected a joking comment, but not something sincere. He lowers his camera, stunned. ‘’I’ll try.’’

 

‘’Come on,’’ Zayn pats him on the shoulder, ‘’it’s time for lunch.’’

 

They eat sandwiches inside the chateau, sitting in a large dining room. Harry also - finally - had the chance to meet Ruth, and she’s nothing short of amazing. Very welcoming and sweet, and she couldn’t stop thanking him. Eventually Liam had to drag Harry away because if he was going to blush any harder it might stain his face indefinitely. Thankfully it faded, but not before Zayn could make fun of him, because Zayn knows Harry can’t stay mad at him.

 

If only he knew why.

 

*

 

The guests are going to arrive soon, so they’re back out front, with Harry setting up his camera. There’s only one problem.

 

‘’Guys?’’ he asks, catching Liam and Zayn’s attention. ‘’Could you- I need a test shot.’’ Harry hates that he has to ask, but he needs it.

 

Of course they’re more than happy to comply, standing on the steps with their arms around each other’s waist. Harry grinds his teeth together while he adjusts the height to get them in frame, feeling that pit in his stomach expanding when he looks at them. They look perfect together; handsome and handsome standing next to each other, their smiles radiant when he tells them to smile. His heart breaks a little - _a lot_ \- when they kiss each other afterwards. He recoils from his camera like it shocked him, but luckily they don’t notice.

 

There’s just enough time for him to school his expression into something more neutral before he gives them a thumbs up.

 

Harry can be bitter as much as he wants. As long as he’s bitter in silence.

 

*

 

As soon as everyone starts arriving, Harry finds himself too busy to worry much. Apart from that he’s also genuinely having fun, trying to make the couples laugh while he sneakily takes the photo. It’s been a while when Zayn joins him, standing at his side and laughing along with the others when Harry says something funny. It’s distracting, so Harry’s sad and relieved at the same time when Zayn goes back to Liam.

 

After the last few people have their photo taken, and some of the others that lingered around for a group photo have left, Harry’s stopped from dismantling his set up.

 

‘’Does it have a timer?’’ Zayn’s asking, nodding at his camera.

 

‘’Uh, yes?’’ He stands there, confused, while Zayn beckons Liam over and drags him back onto the steps, leaving a space in the middle.

 

‘’We’re taking a photo. Three of us.’’

 

‘’Oh. Okay.’’ Harry fumbles with the timer before hurrying over to them, smile coming easy when they sling their arms over his shoulders. In turn he snakes his arms around their waists. Oddly enough, he feels right in place, like this is a thing they’ve been doing for years. Friends.

 

‘’What did you set it to?’’ Liam asks, head tilting in his direction.

 

‘’It takes a photo every five seconds.’’ Harry figured there has to be a good one in there somewhere, then. They pose for a few more photos before Liam starts pulling away, a smile on his face that Harry can only describe as malicious.

 

Liam takes one look at Zayn, whom Harry can feel stepping back, and promptly lifts Harry up in a fireman’s carry.

 

‘’LIAM!’’ Harry yells at him, holding onto the man for dear life. There’s blood rushing in his ears, his heart pounding in his throat, and somewhere off in the distance he can hear Zayn laughing. He squeezes his eyes shut, letting out a distressed noise. ‘’You’re jostling my bits.’’

 

Liam stops and barks out a laugh. ‘’Alright, man.’’

 

Harry hits Liam as soon as he’s safe on the ground. ‘’Don’t do that!’’ It looks like Liam ran around the courtyard, because they’re now on the other side, with Zayn still laughing himself silly on the steps. All the anger washes out of Harry at once as he sees him, and he bites down on his bottom lip to stop himself from smiling. Just seeing Zayn laugh like that makes it all okay.

 

They start the walk towards the site of the ceremony while Harry switches memory cards, not wanting to run the risk of running out of space in the middle of the ceremony. That would be _very_ bad. He also brought some spare batteries, but he isn’t as worried about his camera running out of that. Not for a while.

 

As soon as they reach the site, Zayn and Liam leave Harry to take their seats at the front, while he waits nervously on the side. The tension is palpable and everyone is speaking in whispers, waiting for the magical moment.

 

It’s not long before it arrives.

 

Everything goes by in a flash, Harry feeling the adrenaline rush through him as he flits around the place to take photos from all angles and distances, unable to stop smiling. It’s just so _exciting_ ; the sunlight perfectly filtered by the trees, the decorations creating the perfect backdrop, and the bride and groom’s blinding smiles.

 

Zayn was right. These photos are going to be magical.

 

Harry makes sure to linger behind everyone as they move to the backyard in a crowd. It’s all a process then of everyone congratulating the newlyweds before going to their designated seats. When it’s Harry’s turn, Ruth envelops him in a tight hug while her husband, Thomas, simply shakes his hand.

 

‘’Come on, you’re sitting at our table,’’ she tells him, pointing towards the only empty spots. Harry must fail at hiding how startled he is when she pats his arm. ‘’You’re our photographer, and Liam’s friend. He doesn’t have many of those,’’ she says, sounding sad, ‘’and he’s always so positive about you.’’

 

‘’Thank you.’’ He means it. All Liam’s family members he met so far have been amazingly kind and full of love. Also very emotional, but that’s a given on a day like this.

 

They’ve seated him next to Liam, who beams at him when he sits down. Harry’s glad they didn’t seat him next to strangers.

 

It only makes him like them more.

 

*

 

The day is slowly coming to an end, with the majority of the guests already having gone home. Harry spent his time between the starter and main course taking plenty of photos, only to have his camera taken by Liam so he couldn’t run off between the main course and dessert. Apparently he had been taking too many photos and should ‘’spend more time with them.’’

 

Much to Harry’s relief, Liam and Zayn aren’t so bad to be around. Actually, now he has the opportunity to make a lot of comparisons, they don’t seem to act too much like a couple. Maybe it’s just because they’ve been together for so long. Or it could be their preference.

 

It’s not something he dwells on too long, because they have champagne, and wine. So much wine. Of course Harry drank with moderation, since he’s practically working, but Ruth made it clear he should enjoy himself. So as it’s getting later, the tables slowly clearing and the songs on the dance floor getting slower, he’s okay with letting himself enjoy everything.

 

Everything being the lanterns in the trees casting a warm glow over everything, the food, the drinks, the music, and even the people. Harry’s had a few strangers come up to him, introducing themselves and talking about the photographs he’s taking. Some of them even asked if he could be hired for other events, but he politely declined. He already has a job that he enjoys. Also, he wants his hobby to _stay_ his hobby.

 

He’s just going through his most recent photos when Liam and Zayn join him at the otherwise empty table again, slumping down in their seats.

 

‘’Harry, why aren’t you dancing?’’ Liam asks, prodding him in the side.

 

Harry squirms away, carefully placing his camera on the table. ‘’By myself? That would be embarrassing, not to mention my awful dancing skills.’’

 

‘’Right,’’ Liam snorts, ‘’because they’re not too drunk or busy to notice. There’s barely anyone left.’’

 

‘’He’s right,’’ Zayn comments, sipping on some wine.

 

‘’Still don’t wanna dance by myself. Not as fun.’’

 

‘’Okay.’’ Liam slaps him on the shoulder and nods towards the dance floor. ‘’We- or, actually… I’m too tired, but Zayn still has plenty energy left!’’

 

‘’Thanks for letting me know,’’ Zayn deadpans. ‘’Anything else you want to tell me?’’

 

‘’Yes.’’ Liam takes Zayn’s glass of wine. ‘’You also think it’s a great idea.’’

 

Harry can see Zayn narrowing his eyes at Liam, only to sigh and scoot back his chair. ‘’Well, you must be right.’’

 

‘’Of course I am,’’ he waves at them, downing whatever’s left of the wine in Zayn’s glass, ‘’off you go. Have fun.’’

 

Harry only has a moment to notice Liam must be more drunk than he looks when he feels a tap on his shoulder. Zayn is standing behind him, his hand stretched out and lips tilted up in a soft smile.

 

They’re going to dance.

 

And Harry is going to kill Liam.

 

Everything just kind of falls away when Harry rises from his seat, feeling his blood rush in his ears and a tingle in his back where Zayn’s hand is resting, guiding him to the dance floor. The timing is absolutely awful, because at this time they’re only playing slow music and that’s _bad_. And now they’re standing on the dance floor, but Harry doesn’t know what to do or say.

 

Zayn rolls his eyes. ‘’Just copy the rest, Harry.’’

 

Sure. Copy the rest. Harry barely has time to panic before Zayn closes the distance between them, arm looping around Harry’s waist and head resting on his shoulder. He can only think _I’m glad I don’t have clammy hands_ when Zayn grasps theirs together, because the rest of his brain seems to have shut down. Autopilot has pretty much taken over.

 

Harry really hopes Zayn can’t hear or feel how fast his heart is beating, how he has to force his breathing to stay normal. It’s just… too much at once. The feeling of Zayn pressed against him, the soft skin of his hand, how he smells like summer and comfort.

 

This is a moment he’ll never forget. It will always stay perfectly clear in his memory, reminding him he should settle for nothing less. That anyone who doesn’t make his heart beat like this, his heart _hurt_ like this, isn’t worth his time. It’s set impossible standards, and Harry has to swallow a lump in his throat when he thinks he might never find another person who fits them.

 

It seems he’ll have to kill Liam _twice_.

 

***

 

Days have passed until Harry sits down to go through the photos. Ruth told him to take his time, but he’d rather have it done sooner than later. So he comfortably settles on his sofa with his laptop, and gets to work.

 

It’s a process, alright. First he makes sure to separate them into different folders before checking the actual quality of the photos. The ones that aren’t up to par are removed, and only then does he start with editing the photos. Sometimes they need to be sharpened or just cropped a little. It’s all sorts of things.

 

Harry makes sure to take a break every once in a while, and he also had to admit he wasn’t going to finish it in one night. So it’s on the third day that he spots it.

 

Zayn.

 

Nothing appeared out of the ordinary at first. He really only noticed when his hands were holding his sandwich and his eyes were lazily scanning over the photo. Now he’s trying not to choke on it, coughing into his fist.

 

It’s a photo he took of the ceremony, Ruth and Thomas standing under the arch, with everyone’s attention on them.

 

Almost everyone.

 

Now, Harry didn’t really think anything was off at first. He just noticed that Zayn _wasn’t_ looking at the happy couple. Only when he started thinking of where he _was_ looking, did his heart fall into his stomach. Because, why?

 

Of all things, Zayn was staring straight at Harry. Almost into the camera. Nobody else even seems to spare Harry a glance in the photo, in _any_ of the photos, yet Zayn… Harry goes back and forth between some of them, mouth suddenly dry. His throat aches, but for a completely different reason now. It’s the kind of sting you feel when you’re on the edge of tears. Not that Harry’s going to cry.

 

He’s _not_.

 

It’s not like after realising he’s in love, he’s given a _glimpse_. Except he is. A glimpse of what it’s like to hold Zayn close, to have his eyes on him when everyone is looking the other way, only for it to have no meaning. Not to the other person. To Harry, it means too much.

 

He keeps the photo for himself, ignoring the voices in his head telling him to delete it, telling him it’s a bad idea to hold onto this. But Harry is hopeful.

 

Hoping that one day a glimpse can become reality.

 

***

 

 _This is a weird Saturday_ , Harry thinks as he walks down to the bakery. Alone. It kind of feels like he forgot a limb, or left his house without his phone. Okay so he actually did leave his apartment without his phone, but only because he’s going across the street for a bit.

 

The weird thing is that Liam’s nowhere to be seen. Harry even waited outside his apartment for a bit, but Liam didn’t show. So now he’s crossing the street by himself, pausing on his way when he sees a familiar head of black hair through the glass window. When he opens the door he’s greeted by Al.

 

And Zayn.

 

‘’Morning, you two.’’ Harry raises his eyebrows at Zayn, who just shakes his head and mouths _outside_. ‘’You know it, Al.’’

 

‘’Already on it,’’ the man scoffs. ‘’You lot are too predictable.’’

 

Harry shrugs. ‘’And I’m okay with that.’’

 

Al hands Harry his bag, accepting his money in return. ‘’You _do_ pay me, so I don’t care,’’ he says, holding the money up in the air.

 

‘’Keep the change.’’ Harry’s already at the door, holding it open for Zayn. Al just salutes them and goes back to work, to do whatever he does. Harry doesn’t know. Probably bake.

 

‘’Hey.’’ Zayn stops Harry with a hand on his arm as soon as the door closes behind them, the bell chiming.

 

‘’Everything okay?’’ Harry can’t help but ask, because this is out of the ordinary. This being Zayn going to the bakery, which he rarely does. Never, actually, now Harry thinks about it. Liam always does it for him.

 

Zayn shrugs, his arm dropping to his side. ‘’We had a… disagreement? It was kind of a fight, actually. Just needed some time apart to cool down.’’

 

Harry doesn’t need to ask who he’s talking about, so he offers him a small smile. ‘’Sorry to hear that.’’

 

‘’Well, it’s part of a relationship, right?’’ Zayn grimaces. ‘’Although, we fight so rarely that I- We’re really bad at it, if that makes sense?’’

 

‘’What do you mean?’’

 

Zayn sighs, rubbing a hand at the back of his neck. ‘’Like, we don’t know what to do afterwards. Or even during.’’

 

‘’Ah.’’ Harry nods, biting down onto his lower lip.

 

‘’You have no clue what I mean, do you?’’ Zayn is smiling again, which Harry counts as a victory. He’s never been in a relationship long enough to fight much. His longest lasting relationship has been without fights, but that might have been because of the lack of passion. There was simply no heat to fuel the fire.

 

Harry shakes his head and starts crossing the street. ‘’Nope.’’

 

‘’You know-’’ Zayn slings an arm around his shoulder, bringing their heads closer together- ‘’because you’re such a good friend, you’d love to spend the day with me to cheer me up.’’

 

‘’That’s not a question.’’ Harry sighs, the arm around his shoulder is really messing with his thoughts. Everything about Zayn messes with his thoughts, and he knows he’s not going to be able to refuse. Not when it means he’ll get to spend the day with Zayn. Just the two of them.

 

‘’But,’’ he looks at Zayn, who has that expectant smile, like he knows what’s coming already, ‘’you’re right.’’

 

‘’Woop woop!’’ Zayn exclaims, punching the air. ‘’I knew it.’’

 

Harry shakes his head, muttering to himself, ‘’ _I’m friends with a child_.’’

 

*

 

Niall again proves to be the best best friend one could wish for.

 

Saturdays are their _thing_ , an evening for just the two of them because they so rarely get to see each other. Only, this day, Zayn is joining them. Harry didn’t even have to explain, because Niall knows. He knows that Harry can’t pass up an opportunity to spend time with Zayn. Aside from that, Niall is also nosy and wants to find out all about Harry’s crush.

 

Harry doesn’t blame him. He would do the same.

 

‘’He’ll be here soon,’’ Harry tells Zayn, pocketing his phone. They’re sitting outside while it’s still possible, before autumn creeps in with its rain and colder temperatures. Neither of them feel the need to talk, having done nothing else all day, so they’re sitting in a comfortable silence.

 

It’s difficult not to let your eyes wander when there’s no conversation. Harry has to stop himself from staring at Zayn sitting opposite him, who looks too good in the low lighting; long lashes and soft eyes, lips stretched in a lazy smile. It’s a major difference from this morning when Zayn seemed on edge, too energetic and cheerful. Not that Zayn isn’t cheerful, but Harry could see it was a tiny bit forced. Now he’s himself again.

 

Just the way Harry likes him.

 

Their eyes meet again, which happens every once in a while, but this time Zayn holds the gaze, head tilting to the side. ‘’I- Thanks for spending the day with me.’’

 

‘’No need to thank me. I enjoyed it.’’ Harry fiddles with his hands under the table, suddenly nervous. He’s okay with joking and light moods, finds that he effortlessly comes up with replies and things to say, but as soon as things turn serious, he is speechless. Add Zayn to that mix, and he won’t be able to say anything at all.

 

Zayn’s still smiling, which is a good sign. ‘’I did kind of force you, though.’’

 

‘’You know there’s no need for force.’’ Harry quickly drops his hand when he realises he’s pulling on his bottom lip again. Nervous habit. He also does it when he’s thinking. Those two seem to go together a lot.

 

‘’No?’’ Zayn takes a sip from his drink. Hot chocolate; he’s been craving it all day. Harry remembers laughing at him when he confessed it. Turns out Zayn has a bit of a sweet tooth. Not that it should be a surprise, when Harry sees what Liam buys sometimes.

 

Harry shakes his head. ‘’No. I like spending time with you.’’

 

‘’So, we could hang out more often? I mean, we live next to each other. We should take advantage of that.’’

 

‘’When you put it that way, I can’t really say no.’’ Harry can’t help smiling when Zayn beams at him, and lifts his own mug to hide behind it.

 

‘’Don’t tell me you’re drinking _hot chocolate_.’’

 

Harry whips around in his chair, eyebrows raised in surprise when he sees Louis with Niall trailing behind him.

 

‘’Lou! Aren’t you working?’’ Harry gets up to fetch another chair from a nearby table, offering it to Louis.

 

‘’Thanks, and no. Obviously not. A gig just got cancelled.’’ Louis sits, leaning back in his chair. ‘’I’d love for my job to be sitting around and ordering drinks, but I’m not that lucky.’’

 

Niall sits across from Louis. ‘’I don’t think anyone is, mate.’’

 

‘’I am,’’ Zayn pipes up, shrinking in his seat when everyone gives him a funny look. ‘’Just kidding…’’

 

‘’Harold,’’ Louis sighs, pointing a finger at Harry. ‘’Your jokes might actually not be the worst.’’

 

Harry rolls his eyes at him. ‘’Of course not. They’re the _best_.’’

 

***

 

Harry doesn’t know what he expected, but it’s not this. It’s Saturday again, but even with Liam standing right in front of him, things feel off. He tries to think back to this week, if Zayn said anything or hinted at something being wrong, but his mind comes up blank.

 

Maybe he’s just imagining things.

 

Except he’s not. He sees it in Liam’s eyes, the faint circles underneath them and how his smile appears tired more than anything. It worries him, because after all this time Liam is his friend, but when he asks, the question is simply deflected. Harry knows when someone doesn’t want to talk, no matter how much he hates not knowing what’s making them sad. So he opts for normalcy; something he knows he appreciates whenever he’s feeling down. Just having someone else to pretend with, act as if nothing’s wrong. Of course it’s not the healthy way of dealing with things, but it’s like a breath of fresh air after all the moping and thinking.

 

What surprises him even more is when Zayn is his normal self. Acts as if nothing’s wrong when Liam pecks him on the cheek and disappears inside the apartment.

 

Harry waits for Liam to be out of earshot before he turns towards Zayn. ‘’Hey, everything okay?’’

 

‘’Yeah.’’ Zayn frowns at Harry’s question. ‘’Why wouldn’t it be?’’

 

‘’Just asking.’’ Harry shrugs, his fingers grasping onto his bag a little tighter. He’s confused, because things aren’t right, but he doesn’t know what exactly or how or since when.

 

Why is he even so worried in the first place? If something is going on between Liam and Zayn, that’s their business. Only… it scares Harry, because if there’s trouble in paradise, it’s going to affect Zayn. And that doesn’t sit well with him, makes him restless, the way he used to get when he had to wait for exam results. Unable to sit still or concentrate.

 

Harry mentally berates himself for ending up in this situation in the first place. He has already accepted the fact that he’s in love with Zayn, has been for a while. That makes Zayn’s well being incredibly important to him, which, in this situation, only complicates matters.

 

See, he just wants Zayn to be happy, and if that is with Liam, so be it. He _accepted_ that. Not that he’s happy with it - quite the opposite - but he knows there’s nothing to be done. If anything happens between Zayn and Liam, worst case scenario being them breaking up, then Zayn wouldn’t be happy. Harry isn’t okay with that. Not completely, anyway. The only thing that makes him doubt how he feels about it is that, Liam would be out of the picture, which would increase his own chances-

 

No, that’s bad thinking. Selfish thinking. _Hopeless_ thinking.

 

Sure, he can see Zayn likes him. They’re friends, that should be enough evidence. Only he can’t see it blossoming into something more, not even if Liam and Zayn weren’t a couple anymore. Harry doesn’t think he’s Zayn’s type, isn’t even sure what Zayn looks for in a relationship. If it’s anything Harry can give him.

 

Maybe them being friends for so long makes it weird to Zayn. When Harry thinks about dating Louis or Niall, he just can’t see it. It makes him uncomfortable, because they’re his _friends_.

 

And what about Liam? He’ll be sad, too. Harry doesn’t like any of his friends being sad. Also, if they did break up, he wouldn’t see Liam as much anymore. There are so many cons and the only pro he can come up with is that Zayn would be single.

 

Does that make him a terrible human being?

 

Who knows.

 

He tries not to think about it anymore as he finishes his conversation with Zayn, stepping inside his own apartment feeling like he brought much more than just baked goods inside. Emotional baggage, is what it is. Just worries added on top of worries, the same thing he keeps thinking about over and over again.

 

So he does mull over his crush a lot - even the fact that he’s still calling it a crush when it’s evidently a lot more - and the situation he’s in. He only comes up with the same thoughts and only ends up feeling grumpy and guilty, although he can’t help but hope someday, something in his thoughts will change.

 

That the outcome will be different, that he’ll have evidence to convince himself with that he does have a chance and that things will be alright. It’s wishful thinking, he knows that.

 

But if wishing is all it takes, he’ll do just that.

 

***

 

Just to be clear, Harry doesn’t _really_ believe wishing works. And even if it does have an effect, it won’t be in his favour. The universe just doesn’t work that way. Right?

 

Only, he’s not sure what to make of this. _This_ being him, lying in his bed. On a Friday night.

 

Shocking.

 

He only ended up in his bed because by some chance he forgot he was supposed to sleep on his couch, only to find out that wasn’t needed. Because it’s silent.

 

Not a single sound is coming from the other side of the wall.

 

The larger part - which is coincidentally the dramatic part - of him fears the worst. Then a more rational and much smaller voice tells him that they could just be tired like him, and decided to go to sleep earlier. Or maybe they haven’t been making noise for weeks and he just never noticed because he always sleeps on the couch. He curses at himself for that, but also manages to find the humour in that. It’s just something he’d do. Sleep on a couch to avoid having to potentially embarrass himself. Not that he isn’t embarrassed now, but at least he doesn’t have to worry about others judging him.

 

If adulthood was a course, he’d probably fail big time.

 

Not the having a job and being responsible when it comes to cleaning and eating. He’s got that part down, doesn’t mind it one bit. It’s just, being your own force. Dealing with things that can be uncomfortable or unpleasant. That part is hard. But, even harder: crushes.

 

Is there even an adult way to handle those? Is there even an adult way to handle _feelings_?

 

Aside from the obvious, which is, don’t let them get in the way of you being a good person. That’s about all he can come up with. Harry can break his head thinking over this, mulling over the right way to do things, if he knows of anyone that’s been in the same situation - the answer to that is no - and if there’s a way to maybe even get rid of them (the answer to that being, probably not).

 

Harry blinks at his alarm clock, sees the red numbers changing, and laughs at himself. He’s been lying awake thinking for too long already, but when he tries to will himself to fall asleep he finds it’s impossible. Even if it’s quiet on the other side of the wall, there is still too much noise.

 

And it’s all in his mind.

 

*

 

The next morning is what he expected it to be; quiet and empty. It eases his mind and makes him worry more at the same time, which shouldn’t be possible, but hey, apparently it is.

 

Maybe they’re staying at Liam’s place for once? It wouldn’t be strange, since as long as Harry’s known them, they’ve stayed at Zayn’s apartment. Of course he doesn’t know the reason behind that, but it’s completely plausible. It helps him feel more at ease.

 

Not enough to not knock on Louis’ door.

 

Louis opens the door after a couple of minutes, looking half asleep. ‘’Morning?’’

 

‘’Actually, it’s well into the afternoon,’’ Harry tells him. He holds the bag he’s carrying up higher for Louis to see. ‘’Got your goodies.’’

 

‘’Then you may proceed to enter,’’ Louis says officially, holding open the door for Harry.

 

Harry walks towards the kitchen, dumping the bag on the counter. ‘’You wake up fast.’’

 

‘’Food can do that to a man.’’ Louis shuffles after him, rummaging through the bag and humming appreciatively when he finds what he’s looking for. Bagels. Predictable.

 

‘’Sure.’’ Harry sits down at the table, his back resting against the wall. ‘’Late night?’’

 

‘’You don’t want to know,’’ Louis groans, passing Harry things from his fridge to place on the table. ‘’We have an intern. I’ve had to explain every damn action to the guy. Like, mate, what are you even doing here if I need to explain everything?’’

 

‘’Isn’t that kind of the point of being an int-’’ Harry cuts himself off at the unimpressed look Louis sends him. ‘’Yeah, he’s just… holding things up.’’

 

‘’Exactly,’’ Louis sighs, sitting down across from Harry. ‘’I was so tired I didn’t even check what time it was when I went to sleep,’’ he says, spreading cream cheese on his bagel with frustrated jabs, ‘’it could have been an hour ago for all I know.’’

 

‘’An hour ago seems unlikely.’’

 

‘’I know that, you idiot.’’

 

Harry shrugs, and then listens to whatever else Louis has to say about his job. It’s the usual, how the other sound technicians did things to annoy him, like appoint the new intern to him because they know what a pest they can be, and the bands that played. That’s one of the cool things about his job; practically getting paid to go to concerts. The only thing that sucks are his working hours.

 

‘’So, you’ve been quiet,’’ Louis points out, getting up to pour himself a glass of orange juice. ‘’That usually means you have a lot to say, so fire away. I eat, you talk.’’

 

‘’Aren’t you tired of hearing me complain by now?’’

 

‘’No.’’ One of the things that makes Louis such a good friend is that he isn’t only fun to bicker with, but also knows when Harry needs him to be serious and shut down his negative thoughts. ‘’You’re my friend, and you always let me rave on about all kinds of nonsense. It’s only fair if I let you do the same.’’

 

Harry nods slowly. ‘’You _do_ talk all kinds of nonsense.’’

 

A piece of bagel hits Harry in the head, dropping in his lap.

 

‘’ _Dickhead_.’’

 

***

 

Monday arrives just in time, because that means Harry can stop driving himself up the wall. He’s sure if he just sees Zayn, it will ease all of his worries. Most of them, anyway.

 

Except, it doesn’t help. At all.

 

At first Harry isn’t sure if Zayn’s going to show up. He’s just waiting outside his apartment, thinking if he should maybe just knock on the door to check if he’s there. Just as he decides to go with his idea, the door opens. And Zayn looks up at him, a bit startled, as if he completely forgot that Harry exists and that this is a thing they do in the mornings. It hurts Harry’s feelings a little, but that’s not what his mind is on at the moment. It’s on Zayn.

 

And how he looks.

 

Zayn looks tired, like he hasn’t slept properly in days. His eyes are a bit puffy and his nose looks irritated. The way Harry knows his own looks when he’s got a cold. Maybe it’s just a cold?

 

‘’I’d say good morning, but you don’t look… good,’’ Harry tells him, tone laced with concern. ‘’Should you be working like this?’’

 

Zayn shrugs and closes his door. ‘’I’ll be fine.’’ Harry frowns, because Zayn doesn’t look or sound like he’s going to be fine. There’s definitely the stuffy nose, he can hear it clearly, but it’s not just that.

 

Harry has spent enough time watching Zayn to notice the difference. The way he’s slumped forward and how his eyes won’t quite meet Harry’s. What bothers him most is the indifference towards his own well being, although Harry isn’t one to judge when this one time Cassandra practically had to force him out of the daycare when he wasn’t feeling too well.

 

There’s a war going on inside his mind because he wants to ask, to know if it’s more than what looks like a cold, but another part of him tells him to back off and not force Zayn to talk about things he might not want to talk about. He doesn’t want to pry, or make Zayn feel like he can’t come to Harry because then he’ll be bombarded with questions. _Why are things always so complicated?_ he asks himself.

 

‘’You know there’s no shame in taking time off to recover,’’ Harry says, because everyone needs to be reminded of that sometimes, only it looks like Zayn doesn’t want to, with the way his lips twitch down. It only reminds Harry that he has no experience whatsoever when it comes to comforting Zayn, which makes him nervous. He knows just what to do to cheer up Niall or Louis, but when it comes to Zayn he’s completely and utterly clueless.

 

Making someone feel better isn’t as simple as it sounds and can’t be accomplished by just spewing positive messages. People need different things, and he doesn’t know what Zayn’s thing is. It makes him feel useless. He might not be able to give Zayn what he needs, but he’ll make sure that it’s clear how much he’s willing to try.

 

‘’Hey.’’ Zayn finally looks at him, appearing cautious more than anything. ‘’Just so you know, I’m here if you need anything. And I mean _anything_. Don’t worry about bothering me.’’ There isn’t much of a response coming from Zayn so Harry just nervously babbles on, ‘’not that you _have_ to, like, now that I’ve offered. You’re not obligated to take me up on it, I’m just saying that, if you-’’

 

‘’Harry,’’ Zayn finally cuts off his rambling.

 

‘’Yeah?’’

 

‘’I know.’’ The smile doesn’t quite reach Zayn’s eyes, but it’s a step in the right direction. ‘’Thank you.’’

 

‘’It’s what I’m here for,’’ Harry tells him sincerely, somehow unable to say it’s what _friends_ are for.

 

That’s enough emotions so early in the morning, so they proceed as they normally would. Zayn tells him about his upcoming day - even if he isn’t as animated as he usually is - and the tests he has planned for his students. It’s sweet how much he believes in them and wants them to succeed, and Harry finds himself completely drawn into the way Zayn talks until they have to part and hurry because they’ve been talking too long. It’s been known to happen.

 

On his way to work it suddenly strikes him how the subject of this weekend has been avoided. If that was on purpose or not, Harry doesn’t know. Nor does he get the chance to worry about it, because as soon as he steps foot inside, Cassandra is in front of him and demanding his attention.

 

‘’Now that you’re _finally_ here, I can tell you all about this thing I’ve been planning.’’

 

Harry inches past her, but pauses in front of the door leading to the kids’ room. ‘’What _have_ you been planning?’’

 

Cassandra walks up to him, blocking the door. ‘’Just a Halloween party.’’

 

‘’That’s weeks away.’’ Now he’s just suspicious, because she’s blocking the way and it also doesn’t sound like she’s _just_ going to invite him.

 

She scoffs, poking at his chest with a finger. ‘’You’ve obviously never planned a party before.’’

 

‘’No.’’ Harry bats her hand away. ‘’I wouldn’t be any good at it.’’

 

‘’Oh, shush. I’m not asking you for help.’’ She tilts her head, smiling widely. ‘’All I need you to do is bring as many friends as you can.’’

 

Harry frowns at this. ‘’Why would you want that?’’

 

‘’Because,’’ she groans, looking up at the ceiling, ‘’my dear sister insists I couldn’t throw a proper party if my life depended on it.’’

 

‘’So you want to show her you can,’’ Harry explains, nodding. ‘’Sounds straightforward. I like it.’’

 

‘’Finally! Someone who gets it. You, are awesome.’’ Cassandra kisses him on the cheek and bounds into the kids’ room.

 

As soon as he follows her inside, his legs are tackled by a squealing Meredith, almost making him lose his balance from the force.

 

Today is going to be one hell of a day.

 

*

 

One hell of a day turns into one hell of a _week_ , only not in an exciting way. More like actual hell. He’s probably exaggerating, because, _when is he not_ , but he’s worried out of his mind. That’s a thing he seems to do a lot, lately. Maybe it’s something that comes with caring for someone.

 

Someone like Zayn. Whom he hasn’t seen for almost four days.

 

So yes, Harry is worried. To say the least.

 

There is of course the chance that Zayn decided to listen to Harry and actually get some rest, which is why Harry waited until Friday to knock on his door.

 

Zayn doesn’t answer.

 

It’s still very early, so Harry decides to let it slip, and maybe Zayn just doesn’t want to be coddled. Harry knows he’s never fit for company himself when he’s ill, unable to conjure up a good mood. Besides, it’s not like he didn’t make it clear that he’s willing to help. So, if this is a conscious decision Zayn’s making, then Harry has to respect that. No matter how much he just wants to barge inside his apartment and take care of him. It’s just in his nature to worry about everyone, to want to take care of them and make them feel better.

 

Harry relays all of his worries to Cassandra, who tells him to take a step back and try not to worry so much because Zayn is an adult who can take care of himself. It does help, to a certain extent.

 

‘’Honey,’’ Cassandra sighs, passing him on the way to the sink with a dirty rag in her hand. There is always someone who spills their juice. ‘’So far, worrying hasn’t helped anyone. He’ll be _fine_.’’

 

‘’I don’t even know what’s wrong, though.’’ Harry leans against the counter, his head resting against a cabinet.

 

‘’You told me he was ill.’’ She turns off the tap and turns toward him. ‘’Isn’t he?’’

 

‘’I don’t know.’’ Harry shrugs. ‘’He never confirmed anything. I just kind of went with it, because I don’t know what else it could be? And I’ve never seen him ill before, so I don’t have a clue what that would look like.’’

 

‘’ _Harry_ ,’’ she sighs. He can practically feel the look of pity she gives him.

 

‘’I _know_.’’ He pushes himself away from the counter, still unable to face her. ‘’I’ll stop obsessing. Just wait it out, I guess.’’

 

‘’Good, because you haven’t stopped frowning, and that’s just going to give you wrinkles.’’

 

Harry laughs at that, feeling some of the tension leaving him. ‘’Thanks, Cass.’’

 

‘’No problem.’’ She pushes him further into the room. ‘’Now go entertain the kids.’’

 

‘’Aye, captain!’’

 

Harry spots a space in the corner next to Dylan, which offers him the perfect position to look over the other kids while he plays with the little boy. When Harry sits cross-legged next to the boy, he nudges him in the shoulder and nods at the toy he’s holding.

 

‘’What you doing?’’

 

Dylan looks up at him, and then back at his toy, before shoving it in Harry’s face. ‘’Playing with my car.’’

 

Harry takes the toy from him, rolling it over in his hand. ‘’Dylan, this is a train.’’

 

‘’What’s a train?’’

 

*

 

Harry has to admit he’s disappointed when he once again finds himself alone on a Saturday morning. Even if it’s not too surprising. What also wasn’t surprising was the silence last night, and the fact that Harry got to sleep in his bed, _again_. Not that he hates sleeping in his bed, it’s just… the reason _why_ unsettles him. And aside from all his concerns, he really misses him.

 

He really fucking misses Zayn.

 

It hasn’t even been a week and Harry already finds himself thinking to their mornings together with longing, to the way Zayn talks and the way he smiles at him. He even misses being made fun of, especially if it made Zayn laugh.

 

His mood is ruined before he even reaches the bakery. Harry even goes as far as asking Al if he’s seen Zayn or Liam, only to be disappointed when he hasn’t. And just because Harry likes to think of himself as a good friend, he makes sure to get Zayn’s usual order. Only when he’s back upstairs and standing in front of his friend’s apartment door, does he hesitate.

 

He doesn’t want to risk waking Zayn, because rest is important. Maybe he’s also giving Zayn the chance to come to him first. Harry will stop pushing himself on him, no matter how wrong it feels, and give him the space and rest he needs. So with a heavy heart, he hangs the bag on the doorknob for Zayn to find later, and gets on with his day.

 

As it turns out, his day is incredibly busy. He meets up for dinner and drinks with Niall and Louis, using the opportunity to invite them to Cassandra’s party. Niall is appalled that Harry didn’t let him know sooner, because he’s ‘’going to need a costume, time is of the essence!’’ Meanwhile, Louis doesn’t seem too bothered and makes fun of Niall, who in return berates Louis for his lack of creativity and says he’s willing to bet money on Louis wearing last year’s costume.

 

Last year’s costume was a black T-shirt wrapped around his head to make him look like a ninja. At least he went through the effort to make the rest of his outfit black, too.

 

Also, Louis doesn’t deny anything.

 

‘’What about you, Harry?’’ They focus their attention on him, and suddenly he feels like he’s sitting in front of a judge panel.

 

‘’Um,’’ he clears his throat, gaze stuck on his glass, ‘’I was thinking, something with a mask?’’

 

‘’Oh! Phantom of the Opera?!’’ Louis pipes up, excited.

 

Niall scoffs. ‘’Been done too often.’’

 

Louis shakes his head. ‘’But it’s _good_. Plus, he could go for the masquerade look, you know. The red one.’’

 

‘’Sounds cool.’’ Harry nods along, taking a sip from his drink.

 

‘’He likes it,’’ Louis says, shaking Niall’s arm. ‘’And he could just order a complete set online. I’m sure they sell it somewhere.’’ At Niall’s put out expression, he adds, ‘’not everyone has the dedication or willingness to hand pick pieces and create something from scratch, mate.’’

 

‘’Yeah,’’ Harry agrees. ‘’That’s your thing, Niall.’’

 

Niall just sighs and buries his face in his hands. ‘’How did we even become friends?’’

 

‘’Well,’’ Harry points to himself, ‘’I shared my lunch with you in high school, and you met Louis because of me.’’

 

Louis cuffs Niall on the back of the head. ‘’You’re lucky to have me as a friend.’’

 

‘’Yeah,’’ Niall deadpans, ‘’who else would I have to hit me on the head?’’

 

‘’It’s how I show my love.’’

 

Harry frowns, mouth forming a pout. ‘’You rarely hit me.’’

 

‘’Can’t have you feeling left out, can we?’’ Louis says, reaching sideways and hitting Harry.

 

It’s not that hard, but it still stings, and Harry wipes at the sore spot with his hand. ‘’Actually, I don’t mind. Please don’t do that again.’’

 

‘’But how else will I show my love for you?’’ Louis asks dramatically.

 

‘’Like a normal person, mate,’’ Niall says, raising his glass.

 

Louis narrows his eyes at Niall. ‘’ _How_ , then?’’

 

Niall only grimaces and pretends to be busy drinking while Harry tries not to laugh. Of course he fails, but the offended look Niall sends him is totally worth it.

 

‘’Exactly,’’ Louis says, looking smug.

 

*

 

Later when Harry gets home he’s happy to find that the bag he left for Zayn is no longer hanging on his doorknob. It means he accepted it and that he at least has food, but it also sends a pang through Harry’s chest because he wasn’t present. He really wants to see Zayn.

 

Harry is so caught up in his thoughts that he nearly misses the note stuck to his door and the neatly written ‘ _Thanks, Hazza_ ’ on it. A warmth spreads through him and he smiles down at the paper while he enters his apartment, remembering the conversation he had with Zayn about nicknames. They never really bothered to call each other anything but their actual names, but it pleases him to know that Zayn remembers.

 

Sometimes he forgets that people know things about him too, and ends up being surprised when they remind him of that. When they show him that they listened. That they _remembered_. Remembering takes caring.

 

And that makes Harry sad.

 

It doesn’t always. Usually it makes him happy, but in this particular instance, it only makes him think of the way he cares for Zayn and how Zayn just… doesn’t. At least not in the same way.

 

He doesn’t think Zayn dreams about them doing ordinary things. Probably doesn’t think about Harry when he wakes up in the morning, wishing he was there with him. Definitely doesn’t think about kissing him until they both run out of breath, or even clumsily and with teeth because they can’t stop smiling. Isn’t convinced the sun hasn’t officially risen until he sees his smile in the morning.

 

Harry doesn’t think Zayn loves him with all of his heart and more.

 

And that makes him sad.

 

***

 

Everything comes crashing down on Tuesday.

 

Harry is finishing up at the daycare, cleaning where it’s needed and making sure all the lights are turned off, when Liam shows up.

 

He drops what he’s holding, because _the worst_ things are going through his mind at the speed of light and he knows he’s probably gaping at Liam, it’s just… why is he here? What’s wrong? Why does he look so serious?

 

Liam walks up to him then, picks up the toy Harry dropped. ‘’Hey. Been trying to find you.’’

 

‘’Hi?’’ Harry is still shocked, trying very hard to regain control of his body.

 

‘’Um, could we sit down for this? If you have time.’’

 

‘’Yeah.’’ Harry takes the toy Liam holds out for him and moves to place it in the storage box. ‘’I was just closing up. You came right on time.’’ He leads the way to the break room, pulling out a chair and offering to pour Liam a drink, but he refuses. They sit at the rickety table, staring at each other until Liam breaks the silence.

 

‘’How is he?’’

 

Harry frowns, because that’s just an odd question. ‘’Who?’’

 

‘’Zayn.’’

 

‘’I don’t know?’’ Harry hesitates, feeling confused. ‘’Haven’t seen him since Monday.’’

 

‘’You didn’t talk to him this morning?’’

 

Harry bites down on his lip, avoiding Liam’s gaze. ‘’Monday _last week_ , Liam.’’

 

‘’ _What_?’’

 

‘’I should be asking you that,’’ Harry accuses, folding his arms. ‘’What’s going on?’’

 

‘’You don’t know.’’ At that, Liam seems to pale, which only makes Harry worry more. It’s like an insect is crawling down his spine, his head oddly empty.

 

‘’Don’t know what?’’ His voice comes out nearly a whisper, yet somehow still too loud in the small room.

 

‘’There’s no way to- I’ll just say it.’’ Liam takes a deep breath, looking Harry square in the eye. ‘’We broke up.’’

 

Harry’s breath catches. ‘’Oh no.’’ There are so many questions but he can’t even speak right now because, _what_? He must have woken up in an alternate universe, because this can’t be happening, right?

 

‘’Actually, _I_ broke up with _him_.’’

 

‘’Fu- Why, Liam?’’

 

Liam shifts in his seat and rests his arms on the table. ‘’I’ll explain, but it’s a long story. Kind of.’’

 

‘’Go ahead.’’ Harry wants to be angry at Liam, but he knows he’s a good man. There’s no way he’d do anything without good reason.

 

‘’Alright,’’ Liam nods, closing his eyes as if he’s steeling himself for what he’s about to say. ‘’Technically, it started when I got my new job, which is where I met Olivia, but the real problem started long before that.’’

 

‘’Olivia?’’ Harry asks, suspicious. When Liam just sends him a desperate look, he pretends to lock up his mouth and throw away the key.

 

‘’Anyway. You probably guessed as much, but… I fell for her. I wouldn’t say I love her, but I know I could. I also know _that_ love would be a lot different from the way I love Zayn, which made me think about how I _did_ love Zayn. The answer to that was rather shocking.’’ Liam pauses at that, fidgeting with his hands and taking a deep breath before continuing. ‘’Turns out I love him more like a brother. Our flame died long ago, but I think we were both in denial. Meeting Liv made me realise that. And it wouldn’t feel right to just ignore that, not when we could both have so much more, you know?’’

 

‘’You think Zayn’s still in denial?’’ Harry asks, looking down at Liam’s still fidgeting hands to avoid his eyes.

 

‘’Wouldn’t be him if he wasn’t.’’ Liam laughs, but it sounds sad. ‘’He’s a planner, and I just ruined the biggest one he might have had. He’s also a creature of habit, not too fond of big changes. This might be the worst thing to happen to him, even when…’’ Liam trails off, brows furrowing.

 

Harry edges forward in his seat. ‘’Even when, what?’’

 

Liam looks up at him then, catching him off guard when he meets his gaze. ‘’Even when he’s not in love with me anymore. Trust me, I know.’’ He rests his head in his hands, his shoulders slumping. ‘’I watched him fall out of love with me and I didn’t even mind…’’ he confesses, sounding distressed.

 

‘’Hey.’’ Harry takes Liam’s wrists, forcing him to meet his gaze. ‘’That doesn’t make you a bad person.’’

 

‘’I guess not,’’ he sighs. ‘’I just didn’t see the point in continuing. Not even because we’d already been together for so long and everything. That would just be for the wrong reasons.’’

 

‘’Yeah.’’ Harry honestly doesn’t know what to say. The shock has worn off, but now he is just left with a slight buzzing underneath his skin, and he still has difficulty grasping what Liam is saying. What this all _really_ means and what it changes.

 

‘’I know it’s rude of me to put this on you but, could you… Make sure he’s alright?’’ Liam looks pained as he continues, ‘’he’s been ignoring me, which, I understand, but I’m worried. And I do miss him. He’s still my best friend.’’

 

‘’Of course.’’ Harry places his hand on top of Liam’s, squeezing softly. ‘’Zayn’s my friend. I’ll do my best to look after him. Maybe knock some sense into him.’’

 

‘’Thanks, Harry,’’ Liam says, visibly deflating. ‘’You’re the best.’’

 

‘’I know.’’

 

*

 

By the time Liam is gone and Harry’s on his way back home, he’s had enough time to let the news sink in. Enough to be angry at Zayn, because why does he have to be such an _idiot_?

 

Harry is his friend, who lives right next door, and he doesn’t hear a word about what’s going on until Liam actually visits him _at work_. If Liam hadn’t shown up, for how long would Zayn have locked himself up? It doesn’t matter anymore, anyway. Harry’s had it.

 

Enough is enough.

 

No more hiding for Zayn, because Harry’s going to knock on his door until the wood splinters. He’d even climb over the balcony if he had to. It’s due time they had a talk, and he is going to make Zayn listen. First he’ll probably tear him a new one for making him worry like that. Harry actually thought he was ill, but now he knows the real reason why he looked so terrible that day.

 

His anger helps him get home in record time, but the closer he gets and the more steps he takes up the staircase, the more doubt sets in. The other part of him is finally catching up, making him think about _why_ Zayn didn’t tell him anything.

 

What if it’s not just Zayn being himself? What if he doesn’t want Harry’s help or company?

 

The what-ifs are still swimming around in his head by the time he’s standing in front of Zayn’s door and raising his fist for the first knock. There’s enough anger in him to fuel his persistence, and he’s still going to probably yell and let Zayn know how big of an idiot he is.

 

Harry was going to, but the moment Zayn actually opens the door, it all drops through the pit in his stomach.

 

‘’Please don’t shut me out,’’ is what comes out instead. It’s soft and pleading, a far cry from the yelling he was expecting himself to do. There’s no anger left, because he simply can’t stay angry at Zayn for long. He should have known that, but for a moment he was convinced he could _do_ this. Only, as he’s looking at Zayn, he realises he can’t.

 

And he still looks like shit.

 

‘’Harry.’’ Zayn’s voice sounds rough and unused, but it looks like he’s been sleeping because there are no more bags under his eyes. ‘’I wouldn’t.’’

 

‘’Then why are you-’’ Harry motions with his hands, but Zayn seems to get it.

 

He opens the door wider, inviting Harry inside. ‘’Let’s talk.’’

 

His heart is pounding inside his chest as he’s suddenly overcome with nerves, following Zayn inside his apartment and trying not to ogle the clutter. It’s not filthy or anything, but could still use a good cleaning. Harry notes that Zayn’s couch is indeed in the same spot, and if the situation were lighter he’d probably chuckle at it. Now he just takes a seat when Zayn offers him, pulling his hands into his lap and looking at nothing in particular.

 

Harry clears his throat when Zayn is finally seated on the other end of the couch, appearing wary. ‘’So… I’ve heard.’’

 

Zayn sighs. ‘’I figured as much.’’

 

‘’Do you want to tell me about it?’’

 

‘’Can I?’’

 

Harry has to resist the urge to reach out and wrap him up in a hug to absorb all the negativity, all bad feelings he might have. Seeing Zayn hurt makes _him_ hurt, and he hates it.

 

‘’Of course,’’ he says, pouring all the sincerity he can muster into his words, ‘’I’m here for _anything_.’’

 

‘’Okay.’’ Zayn pulls his legs up, wrapping his arms around them. He looks so small like that. ‘’It happened last week. I’ve had this _feeling_ for longer than that, but didn’t think much of it.’’

 

‘’Feeling?’’ Harry asks, confused.

 

‘’Yeah, like something was going to happen. Things were already different. I mean, I can’t even remember the last time we…’’ Zayn trails off and waves his hand around awkwardly.

 

‘’Had sex?’’ Harry finishes for him. ‘’I’m an adult, Zayn. I know about sex.’’

 

Zayn shrugs. ‘’ _Still_. And yes. We weren’t the same anymore, but things weren’t bad, you know? Like, I still loved him. I felt content.’’

 

‘’But then?’’

 

‘’Then, fast forward to last week. Liam says we need to talk. You can imagine what went through my mind.’’ Zayn pauses, looking off into the distance. ‘’It surprised me how much it still hurt when he told me. Well, back then I was still convinced we would be fine, but now that I’ve had time to think about it, I know it wasn’t _really_ a relationship anymore.’’

 

Harry doesn’t know what to say to that, so he keeps silent. Actually, one of the reasons he prefers talking to someone in person is that you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. He can _show_ them that he’s listening, that he’s there for them. It’s not something you can do through text.

 

‘’How _did_ you find out?’’

 

‘’Um,’’ Harry starts, shifting on the couch. ‘’Liam visited me at work today. He explained pretty much all of it.’’

 

Something in Zayn’s expression closes off. ‘’I see.’’

 

‘’He also told me he misses his best friend.’’

 

‘’What?’’  Zayn looks at him, eyes wide in surprise.

 

‘’You didn’t think, that just because you two aren’t in a relationship anymore, it means you can’t be friends?’’

 

Zayn swallows heavily, looking away again. ‘’I thought that was the end of it. The calls- I thought he just wanted some of his stuff back.’’ He takes a shaky breath before continuing, ‘’I just… When he broke up with me all I wanted to do was go to my best friend but I _couldn’t_.’’

 

Harry feels his heart breaking the moment Zayn starts crying, and he doesn’t have time to stop himself before he scoots closer and hauls him in for a hug. Zayn hiccups and shudders, but leans in eventually. It takes some discipline for Harry not to get distracted with the way Zayn holds onto him, but he manages to calm himself. For Zayn, he can do anything.

 

‘’You _can_ ,’’ Harry tells him, squeezing him tightly. ‘’Zayn, you didn’t lose him. You told me you were best friends before this, so I’m telling you, you can be best friends after this.’’

 

‘’You think so?’’

 

Harry pulls back, holding onto his shoulders and looking him in the eye. ‘’I know so.’’ He looks around again, at the state of the apartment, and back at Zayn. ‘’Okay, first of all we’re going to my place so I can make us dinner. Then you’re cleaning this mess, and _then_ you’re going to call Liam. Yes?’’

 

‘’Yeah, sounds good.’’ Zayn places his hands on top of Harry’s, smiling softly. ‘’Thanks, Harry.’’

 

Harry doesn’t need a ‘thank you’, because just seeing Zayn smile is all he needs.

 

***

 

Autumn arrives in full swing around the same time Halloween does, colouring everything orange and bringing an entirely different kind of warmth with it. Oh, and rain. Don’t forget about the rain.

 

Harry finds himself stuck inside a lot when it’s absolutely pouring outside, the wind blowing the rain in all directions. Not even an umbrella could save you. Normally he would absolutely hate having to stay inside, but when he gets to stay inside with Zayn, he doesn’t really mind.

 

It’s become a habit for them to spend those evenings together, chatting away while the weather is raging on outside.  Some days they just sit side by side while Zayn goes through his students’ homework and Harry watches television. Except for that one night when the only thing that came on was static and he was forced to read a book, only that didn’t last long because the silence was killing him and they just ended up talking again.

 

The talking is nice. Harry loves it, actually. He loves learning everything about Zayn, even if it’s about his sisters or something one of his students did. He just loves hearing Zayn talk, although he’d love anything to do with Zayn because Harry, well, loves him.

 

He’s still in love with Zayn. And it’s not getting any less. The only difference _now_ , is that that’s okay. At least, he thinks it is. Because Zayn is single now. So much has changed since that one day, when Harry knocked on his door and they had that talk ( _and_ hug, Harry likes to remind himself). It took some time but Zayn is back to being functioning, and he even looks happy, and Harry likes this new thing they have going. It’s just…

 

It’s still hopeless? Harry knows that Zayn probably isn’t looking for a new relationship any time soon, and even if he is, that wouldn’t be with Harry. They started out as neighbours and grew into friends, and since that all happened while Zayn was still with Liam, Harry thinks maybe he-

 

Maybe Zayn will still always just see him as a friend.

 

Of course that’s not a _bad_ thing. He loves being friends, but it’s his heart that’s longing for more - okay, not always _just_ his heart - and now with one of the barriers removed, the one big thing that kept them from being together, that option of _more_ just seems to be taunting him. It would be annoyingly swinging in front of his face when they’re just watching television on the couch, telling him that he could totally place his arm on the back of the couch. Telling him to initiate something. Of course, that’s when the voice of reason kicks in and the war starts inside of his head.

 

So yes, it’s still hopeless. But it won’t stop him from enjoying his time with Zayn.

 

Especially not on Halloween.

 

After a quick dinner and making sure he has his complete costume inside his bag, Harry’s waiting outside his apartment building. Cassandra is supposed to pick him up so he can help with setting everything up before the party starts.

 

Turns out that ‘setting things up’ means assuring Cass that everything is going to be fine, and occasionally handing her a piece of decoration while she attaches it to the wall or ceiling or wherever it’s supposed to go. Harry is fine with being moral support, thinks it’s easier. If he had to go and climb a ladder it probably wouldn’t end well, anyway.

 

Her apartment is, as it turns out, perfect for a party. It’s spacious, especially when there are no walls separating the kitchen and living room. The decoration makes a perfect combination of spooky and cozy, with cotton cobwebs hanging off the ceiling and fake candles spread around on all surfaces. Harry is just observing a skeleton propped up against the wall when Cassandra emerges from her room in her costume.

 

Of course. Why would she be anything other than Wonder Woman?

 

‘’I think,’’ Harry starts, slowly walking closer, ‘’I’ll be busy shooing all the hungry men away from you.’’

 

‘’I can protect myself just fine. You, on the other hand…’’ she trails off, nodding at his ensemble.

 

‘’This?’’ Harry asks, showing the fake sword attached to his hip. ‘’I think I’ll be able to handle it.’’

 

‘’Darling, you know the only thing that sword is going to do tonight is knock things over.’’

 

Harry pouts and grips onto the handle. ‘’You don’t know that.’’

 

‘’We already agreed to shorten your cape to ankle length,’’ she says, motioning to the long red piece of fabric draped over his shoulder, ‘’because that would have been a disaster, and I’m asking you to please use the same logic here.’’

 

‘’Wait-’’ Harry holds up a finger- ‘’I only agreed to shorten my cape so others wouldn’t stand on it and make it dirty.’’

 

Cassandra crosses her arms, cocking an eyebrow. ‘’So, what if others knock into your sword? You could spill a drink.’’

 

‘’You-’’ Harry narrows his eyes at her, eventually relenting with a sigh. ‘’Fine. No sword!’’

 

‘’You’ll thank me later.’’ she says, sinking down onto the couch with a sigh.

 

Harry thinks it’s a shame that an important showpiece of his costume is now resting in the umbrella stand (it seemed like a good place to put it), but honestly, he still looks good without it. At first he was afraid that all the red was going to be too much, but it’s Halloween, so anything that’s too much is still acceptable, in that weird way it can only be on Halloween. The only thing he still isn’t used to is the mask, because having something resting on his face at all times is a bit unsettling, but he’ll be fine for one night.

 

Soon the guests start piling in, with costumes ranging from predictable and unoriginal to plain unrecognizable. Harry helps them get settled, while Cassandra welcomes them and accepts any gifts or donations they brought. Already there’s a fun atmosphere, everyone chatting away over the music in the background, drinking and enjoying the sweets placed in small bowls throughout the apartment.

 

Harry’s just starting to wonder how long it’s going to take his friends to arrive when Cassandra calls him over. He hurries over to the door, jaw dropping when he takes in someone that could only be his best friend.

 

‘’What on earth, Niall?’’

 

‘’Don’t you mean, what on _Mars_?’’ he says, stepping inside the apartment and into the low light.

 

‘’What?’’ Harry is flabbergasted, still staring at Niall. His skin is blue. Or green? There’s a metallic shine to it, making it difficult to decipher the colour, although it matches his outfit perfectly. Harry’s not sure what his outfit even is, though.

 

‘’He’s an alien, you moron.’’ And that could only be Louis, wearing last year’s costume as predicted.

 

‘’Hi, Louis,’’ Harry deadpans, stepping aside to create more room. ‘’I see you’re as creative as ever.’’

 

‘’Next year,’’ Louis says, pointing at Harry before dragging Niall with him to the kitchen doubling as a bar.

 

That leaves only two of his friends, who are currently awkwardly hovering near the entrance until Harry ushers them in and closes the door behind them.

 

Batman and the red power ranger. It doesn’t take him long to figure out who is who.

 

Mostly because, despite the power ranger suit covering everything up, it also _doesn’t_ cover everything up. Liam looks downright bulky in his batman costume, while Zayn looks lean and- Harry’s face must match the colour of his own costume with how hot it’s feeling, and he’s stammering his way through greetings, somehow successful in keeping his gaze above the waistline. After that, Liam sidles over to join Niall and Louis, while Zayn lingers by Harry’s side.

 

‘’Hey, we kind of match,’’ Zayn says, voice sounding tinny through the helmet. ‘’We’re both red,’’ he clarifies when Harry just tilts his head.

 

‘’Oh.’’ Harry looks down at his costume, fingers playing with the top button. ‘’Guess we do.’’

 

‘’Isn’t your costume supposed to have a sword?’’ Zayn pokes Harry’s hip with his finger, signalling where said object should be, only it makes Harry nearly yelp.

 

Key word being nearly.

 

‘’It’s over there,’’ he answers, pointing at the umbrella stand.

 

Zayn looks over his shoulder and laughs. ‘’Interesting.’’

 

‘’Aren’t you going to be hot with that helmet?’’ Harry’s mind helpfully tells him that Zayn already _is_ hot, albeit in a completely different way.

 

Zayn shrugs. ‘’Probably, but I need to make a good first impression. After that it doesn’t really matter.’’

 

‘’I see.’’

 

Their conversation is interrupted when they’re called over by the rest, and as soon as they join them Harry gets a drink shoved in his hand by Niall, who only wiggles his eyebrows at him when he does the same to Zayn. Not that Harry needs words to understand his best friend, who no doubt has already concocted an evil plan to get both of them drunk. It’s like he’s not even trying to be subtle. Although that could actually be part of the plan. And now Harry’s overthinking it.

 

He takes a sip of his drink, humming appreciatively when he finds it’s fresh and fruity, and listens to his friends converse. They’re not that familiar yet, so he allows them to get to know each other. Gauging from their reactions, Niall and Louis really like Liam. Zayn doesn’t say much, which reminds Harry of when they first got to know each other, when he used to be more subdued. Now he doesn’t seem to mind talking Harry’s ears off.

 

Harry doesn’t mind either.

 

Eventually, as predicted, Zayn seems to have had enough of his helmet and takes it off. If Harry had been drinking, he might have choked. Really, it was a close call. Harry offers to keep the helmet safe with his bag in Cassandra’s room just so he has a moment to collect himself. As soon as he’s inside the dark room, he closes his eyes and tries to will away the image of Zayn with messy hair and not quite sweaty but still glistening skin, tinged red at the cheeks. Frankly, he looked like sex. It’s distracting.

 

When Harry makes his way back outside it’s only to find that his friends have split up, leaving Zayn alone and awkwardly hovering near a table. Harry watches from a distance as Zayn pretends to be interested in the decoration, snatching a sweet from the bowl and popping it in his mouth as he leans against the wall. It’s so relatable it only makes Harry love him more.

 

‘’Our friends are awful,’’ Harry announces as soon as he joins Zayn again, who visibly deflates when Harry copies him and leans against the wall. ‘’We should get new ones. I’d say tonight is the perfect opportunity.’’

 

‘’I don’t know, I like this just fine.’’ Harry can’t help smiling widely at that, tilting his head in curiosity when Zayn reaches over and takes two cups from the small table near them. ‘’I got us new drinks.’’

 

‘’Thanks.’’ Harry accepts one of the cups, holding it up in a toast before taking a sip.

 

‘’You know, I wasn’t too sure about this party at first.’’

 

Harry looks to his side to find Zayn chewing on the rim of his cup, looking over the crowded room. ‘’How come?’’

 

Zayn shrugs. ‘’I’m not much of a party person, but I like this. It’s intimate enough, not as intimidating. Friendly, I’d say.’’

 

‘’That’s good.’’

 

‘’I’m also glad I don’t have to dance.’’

 

Harry laughs, elbows him in the side. ‘’You were dancing just fine at the wedding.’’

 

Harry can see Zayn watching him from the corner of his eye, small smile playing on his lips. ‘’That was different.’’

 

‘’Yeah, I guess.’’ Harry is suddenly reminded of Zayn close to him, their hands clasped together, smelling his cologne. He takes a gulp of his drink, feels it travel down his throat. His mouth still feels a little dry. ‘’I’m more of a slow dancer. Parties or clubs aren’t for me, either.’’

 

Zayn nods, cup pausing halfway to his lips. ‘’From what I remember, you were pretty good at it. Once you got into it.’’

 

There’s a noticeable uptick in Harry’s heartbeat when Zayn meets his eyes over the rim of his cup, a brightness in his eyes, even in the low lighting.

 

‘’From what _I_ remember, I had a pretty good partner.’’

 

Zayn narrows his eyes at Harry. ‘’Only pretty good?’’

 

‘’Alright, he was the best one that evening.’’

 

‘’I was the _only one_ you danced with that evening.’’

 

‘’Oh really?’’ Harry is enjoying teasing Zayn too much, the light hearted banter they have going on. ‘’Actually, you might be right.’’

 

‘’’Course I am.’’

 

Harry sighs, his fingers drumming against the side of his cup. ‘’You’re the best, though.’’

 

‘’Thank you for finally acknowledging it.’’ Zayn looks down into his cup, then nods towards Harry’s. ‘’Want a refill?’’

 

‘’Nah, I’m good.’’

 

Zayn momentarily leaves his side, and Harry catches a glimpse of Niall’s shiny costume among a group of strangers. He seems to be enjoying the party, mingling with the others. Harry doesn’t mind spending the evening with just Zayn. Might prefer it actually. He wonders what his past self would think if he knew his life would slowly start revolving around Zayn. He’d probably call him an idiot, tell him it’s a waste of his time.

 

Harry can’t find it in himself to agree on that one.

 

*

 

It’s not even that late when Harry decides it’s time to go home, partly because Zayn hasn’t said anything for almost half an hour now and is sleepily leaning against Harry. He’d be content to spend the rest of the party with Zayn pressed up against him, but he knows it’s probably safer to get them both home when he isn’t nearly falling asleep himself. So he does the responsible thing, dragging Zayn along to tell Cassandra he’ll come back the next day for his things and to help clean up.

 

They’re waiting outside for their taxi, and Harry’s just done texting his friends to let them know they’re leaving, when he feels Zayn tug on his hair.

 

‘’Y’know, if it weren’t for your curly hair, I might not’ve recognised you.’’

 

Harry turns his head to look at Zayn, who is now holding onto his shoulder and blinking tiredly at him. It’s amusing to see what a mix of alcohol and exhaustion does to Zayn. So far it turned him into a tactile sloth. Harry’s glad he didn’t drink much, because this is much more enjoyable when sober. Zayn didn’t drink much more than him, although the effect seemingly amplified the later it became and the sleepier he got.

 

‘’But you did,’’ Harry says, patting the hand on his shoulder.

 

‘’Bet I could pick you out of a crowd of a thousand people.’’ Zayn nods to himself. ‘’I can.’’

 

‘’That’s impressive.’’ Harry keeps Zayn steady with a hand around his elbow, feeling a mixture of sadness and relief when their taxi finally arrives. He helps Zayn get inside, even going as far as putting his seatbelt on for him. Harry doesn’t know if Zayn actually needs the help, but he doesn’t protest. When Harry wants to pull back out of the car so he can finally take a seat himself, a hand grips tightly onto his wrist.

 

‘’Harry?’’ Zayn looks up at him, eyes wide. ‘’Where are you going?’’

 

‘’To the other side of the car. Unless you want me to climb over you.’’ Harry meant the last part as a joke, but part of him actually wouldn’t mind.

 

‘’Oh.’’ Zayn releases his wrist then, relaxing into his seat. ‘’Okay, then.’’

 

Harry does as he said he would, quickly buckling himself in taking a deep breath. He has to remind himself that anything Zayn says or does at the moment should be taken with a grain of salt, considering his state. But not even logic can stop the warm feeling from spreading through him at every touch, every thing Zayn says that makes his heart do somersaults.

 

The taxi starts driving again, and Harry settles with watching everything pass by from his window. Many of the houses are decorated with lights, and some even have parties going on inside them, much like the one they just left. Tonight is one of those rare nights that the city is bursting with life, everyone coming together to celebrate. Harry doesn’t have long to dwell on that sentiment when a hand starts tugging on his sleeve.

 

‘’Yes, Zayn?’’ Harry has just enough time to turn his head when he feels two hands grab the sides of his face. He feels his heart practically elevate into his throat, lips parting to suck in a shocked breath.

 

‘’Just-’’ Zayn has a look of utter concentration on his face as his hands run from the sides of Harry’s mask to the back of his head, carefully rolling it off until Harry is mask free. ‘’There. Much better.’’

 

Harry is actually speechless, and Zayn is just watching him with a dopey smile on his face, mask still in his hands. His heart is finally starting to calm down when the taxi stops, making Zayn drop his smile and look around with a frown on his face. Once again Harry has to help him get out of the car, although Zayn undoes his own seatbelt.

 

They’re on their way upstairs after Harry paid the driver, slowly taking step after step. Zayn fares better than expected, barely needing assistance. He’s slow, but at least he’s not falling. Eventually they do make it up all the way, hovering by their apartment doors in silence. Harry doesn’t know what to say, just fiddles with the mask in his hands and tries not to stare at Zayn.

 

Zayn doesn’t seem to have the same worries; just watches him with a blank expression.

 

Until he hugs Harry.

 

It catches Harry off guard, making him stumble backwards a step before he regains his balance and allows his arms to circle around Zayn. He’s working on autopilot, brain practically going into overdrive when he feels Zayn turn his face into his neck. By the time Zayn pulls back, Harry still hasn’t fully processed what just happened.

 

‘’Night, Hazza.’’

 

His brain catches up in time to wish Zayn a good night before he disappears inside his apartment, miraculously getting his door open with no trouble at all. Harry, however, needs a few tries before he even gets his key inside the lock. His hands feel a little shaky, and his heart is still going wild by the time he makes it inside.

 

Tonight, things felt different. _They_ , him and Zayn, were different. Or maybe it’s just the alcohol, just the circumstances. Harry doesn’t want to get his hopes up from just one evening. It’s going to take many alike, which is going to take a long time.

 

Because love is a waiting game.

 

***

 

A week later and Harry still can’t stop thinking of that one night. It’s actually gotten to the point where he gets over excited by something simple like a hug, and it’s driving him crazy.

 

See, Zayn hugs a lot. It’s one thing Harry didn’t know about him yet, but he does it now whenever they say goodbye. And it’s not just a simple hug either, not the one shoulder pat Harry does with his other friends sometimes. Zayn does the ‘’two arms, I’ll miss you’’ kind of hug that makes Harry want to sing in the moment only to have his voice taken away the next because he wants to say _so much_ to Zayn but doesn’t think he ever will.

 

Basically, hugging Zayn is the best kind of torture.

 

All of this is going through his head when he’s preparing for _the hug_ , because Harry likely won’t see him again until the next day, only to taken aback when Zayn doesn’t initiate anything, just stares at Harry instead.

 

‘’What is it?’’ he asks, trying to get Zayn to talk.

 

‘’Well, I was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner somewhere? I can’t be bothered to cook today, and honestly I just wanted to really check out this Italian place I came across months ago but-’’

 

‘’Sure.’’  If Harry hadn’t stopped Zayn’s rant he would still be talking and probably going red in the face from saying everything in one breath. Also, Zayn had him at the first sentence.

 

‘’What?’’

 

‘’I said yes. Is it far away?’’

 

‘’Oh.’’ Zayn smiles widely. It really makes Harry want to kiss him. ‘’No, it’s walking distance.’’

 

‘’Great. Lead the way!’’ It’s just dinner. He had that with Zayn many times already, in each of their apartments.

 

Nothing special about it.

 

And it’s on their way back home that he starts doubting that. Because dinner was almost… romantic. Harry only had one glass of wine but it feels as if he downed a whole bottle. Staring into Zayn’s eyes for an evening probably does that to a person. It’s just, he couldn’t look away. Also, Zayn looked back. Maybe not as intensely as Harry was probably looking at him, but still.

 

Or he was just trying to be polite.

 

Why is everything so confusing?

 

Were they on a _date_? The word hasn’t been used a single time, and they have dinner together all the time. But this was different. Special, even. Harry can’t just ask Zayn. That would make things weird. Is he overthinking this? Definitely. Is he going to keep thinking about it for the rest of the week?

 

Probably.

 

Is it going to stop him from spending more time with Zayn? Never. He’s just thinking of what they could do the rest of the evening when Zayn speaks up.

 

‘’So, I don’t have any work for tonight. We could like, watch a film?’’

 

Harry pauses before going up the staircase. ‘’Sounds good. Whose place?’’

 

‘’Yours?’’ Zayn shrugs, and Harry follows him upstairs. ‘’Your couch is more comfortable.’’

 

‘’Oh, so _that’s_ why we always hang out at mine?’’

 

‘’And you have snacks.’’

 

Harry scoffs. ‘’I buy them because I know you’re going to eat them.’’

 

Zayn stops then, looking down at Harry. ‘’You buy snacks for me?’’

 

‘’And I got your favourite,’’ he says softly, wishing Zayn would keep walking so Harry can pretend to be busy focusing on not falling, instead of looking up into Zayn’s eyes, trying not to lose himself in their warmth.

 

‘’You’re right,’’ Zayn laughs, ‘’I _am_ going to eat them.’’

 

‘’Save a few for me, alright?’’

 

Zayn assures him he will and pats Harry on the back while he unlocks his door. Harry tells him to choose something to watch on Netflix while he gets them something to drink and to munch on. When he carries the tray to the living room, he sees Zayn hasn’t made a move to pick anything yet, instead caught up in looking at the photos Harry left on the coffee table earlier when he was trying to find new ones to put on his wall. He completely forgot.

 

‘’You took these?’’ Zayn asks, moving the photos to the side so Harry has room to place down the tray.

 

‘’Yeah, a while back. I took them in the park.’’ Harry sits next to Zayn, their knees nearly touching. He tries to remember when it became normal to sit this close to him, but comes up completely empty.

 

‘’I love this one, with the leaves.’’ Zayn picks one out of the bunch, handing it to Harry. ‘’Oh, and how did the wedding photos turn out? I never asked.’’

 

‘’Ruth loved them. She even sent me a massive gift basket.’’ Harry chuckles, shaking his head. ‘’I told her to pay me in food, but never specified an amount. Guess I should’ve seen it coming, huh?’’

 

‘’Yeah, sounds like Ruth.’’ Zayn seems to be lost in thought for a moment, looking at the rest of the photos on the table. ‘’Hey, you’re going to put this one on your wall with the rest?’’

 

‘’I am.’’ Harry vaguely remembers telling Zayn about his wall of photos, probably a while ago.

 

‘’Can I see? I mean, I kind of caught a glimpse last time but I didn’t dare ask.’’

 

‘’Of course.’’ Harry tries not to think about how Zayn is following him into his bedroom. It’s different from last time, when they were just passing through and he didn’t get the chance to really see Zayn in his space like this.

 

‘’Oh wow,’’ Zayn breathes, taking a step closer to inspect each photo.

 

‘’It’s just,’’ Harry waves his hand around, trying to will his blush away, ‘’I don’t know.’’

 

‘’They’re amazing.’’ Zayn doesn’t even look away, his gaze stuck to the wall.

 

‘’I do only select the best ones. Most of them were lucky shots.’’

 

Zayn shakes his head. ‘’Nonsense. It takes expertise to even find the lucky shots.’’

 

‘’You tried photography?’’ Harry sits on his bed, feeling like he’s watching Zayn observe things in a museum. Or an art gallery.

 

‘’Yeah, _tried_.’’

 

‘’Wait, _you_ were bad at something?’’ Harry leans back on his hands, smug grin on his face. It always annoys him to no end that Zayn does just about anything well, with a grace that not many people have. Certainly not Harry; he isn’t particularly graceful.

 

‘’Shut up.’’ Zayn suddenly freezes, his hand coming up to briefly touch one photo. ‘’This one, it was taken at the wedding?’’

 

‘’What?’’ Harry rushes off his bed, coming to stand next to Zayn to see what he’s pointing at. It’s the photo that they took - the three of them - with Harry over Liam’s shoulder and Zayn in the background, bent over, laughing. ‘’Oh, yes. It was.’’

 

‘’Could you give me a copy of it?’’

 

‘’Of course.’’ Harry looks sideways at Zayn, who’s back staring at the wall, this time with a frown on his face.

 

‘’There aren’t any photos of you.’’

 

‘’What do you mean?’’ He is in some of the photos, even the very one Zayn wants a copy of.

 

‘’I mean, there are no photos of _just_ you. You alone.’’

 

Harry snorts, crossing his arms. ‘’Wouldn’t that be weird?’’

 

‘’Oh.’’ Zayn shrugs, ducking his head. ‘’Maybe.’’

 

‘’You know,’’ Harry elbows him softly, trying to lighten up the situation because it feels oddly heavy, ‘’if you want a photo of me, you could just tell me.’’

 

‘’Funny,’’ Zayn deadpans, pushing Harry away before going back to the living room.

 

Harry tries not to notice the red flush on Zayn’s cheeks. If he pretends it wasn’t there, he won’t have to think about the _why_.

 

He has enough to think about already.

 

***

 

A surprise is waiting for Harry the next Saturday when he opens his apartment door. It isn’t a bad surprise by any means, just incredibly confusing.

 

‘’Liam?’’ Harry asks hesitantly. He saw Liam only a couple days ago when he came by the daycare, which he does now sometimes, but why he would be here is still a mystery to him.

 

‘’Hey, you!’’ Liam grabs his shoulder and pulls him in for a quick hug, which is normal for him. There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong, at least not that he can see. Liam looks happy enough.

 

‘’When did you get here?’’

 

‘’Oh, last night.’’

 

‘’Last night?’’ Harry feels his step falter. If Liam got here then that must mean he spent the night at Zayn’s place, and Harry doesn’t know what to do with that information. He knows they were back to talking, but he hasn’t really asked how they’ve been doing. It’s only been a few weeks, and he expected them to adjust much later.

 

Wait, what if they’re back together? Liam seems very cheerful.

 

Almost as if able to read Harry’s inner turmoil, Liam looks his way and laughs. ‘’I slept on the couch, don’t worry.’’

 

‘’What? Why would I worry?’’ His voice might have been a bit too high pitched to be convincing, but he hopes Liam won’t notice.

 

‘’I thought you-’’ Liam cuts himself off to open the door for Harry, sighing once they’re standing outside. ‘’Never mind. Let’s just go get our bread. And stuff.’’

 

‘’Liam, you’re acting rather odd.’’ It makes Harry think of that one time he caught Zayn leaving Louis’ apartment, and neither of them would say what they were doing. He’s still suspicious.

 

“Your face is odd.”

 

“Thanks,” Harry says, pouting.

 

Liam blanches, and starts sputtering. “It was- I didn’t- It was just a joke.”

 

“I know,” Harry chuckles, patting Liam on the shoulder. “You’re unbelievably bad at being mean. Even if it’s just a joke.”

 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

 

Harry nods, starts crossing the street. “Oh, you should.”

 

“Why does it sound like you’re joking? That’s your joking voice.”

 

“You know my joking voice? I’m flattered.” Harry can’t help smiling, because a flustered and confused Liam is just too amusing. Besides, they always enjoy Harry’s embarrassment. It’s only fair this way.

 

Liam stops, hand pausing on the bakery door. “Well, I _have to_.” Harry doesn’t like the way Liam’s smiling at him. “Your jokes are so bad there’s simply no other way to tell. We wouldn’t know when to laugh.”

 

“I take it all back. You’re a horrible person.”

 

***

 

Harry wakes up early the next day, despite getting home late last night. His evening with Niall turned into more of a group meeting with Zayn and Liam joining them. The only thing that kept the night from being perfect was Louis not being there with them, although he did send some photos of the performance that night. Apparently both parties were missing out on something.

 

Surprisingly, it doesn’t take Harry long to wake up and get going. He expected to be sluggish and tired, unwilling to get out of bed because his room feels somewhat chilly and the temperature under his sheets is perfectly warm, but he’s struck with a sudden burst of energy. How long it will last remains to be seen.

 

Since it’s Sunday, and he isn’t planning on going anywhere, he dresses for comfort after his shower, pulling out his favourite pair of sweatpants and a plain T-shirt. Breakfast is eaten while he walks through his apartment and tidies as much as possible without it requiring too much effort. It’s Sunday, after all. Today is for resting and wasting time doing nothing important. He’s just thinking about what to do when he hears knocking. Honestly, it could only be one person.

 

‘’Hey,’’ Harry greets Zayn, not even waiting before turning around and walking into his kitchen to grab something to drink. He hears his front door shut, asks Zayn if he wants anything while he’s got his head inside a cabinet. There are barely any glasses left; he really needs to do his dishes.

 

‘’Just some water.’’

 

‘’Coming right up! Go take a seat,’’ he tells Zayn, grabbing two mismatched glasses and filling them with water. Harry takes a look at the clock in his kitchen, humming in surprise when he sees it’s only ten in the morning. ‘’Here,’’ Harry hands Zayn his glass and sits next to him on the couch, ‘’how did you know I was awake?’’

 

‘’Your shower.’’

 

‘’What?’’ Harry isn’t sure he heard that right. He places his glass on the table, foregoing a coaster because his coffee table can’t be saved anymore, anyway. There are chips in the wood and the paint is slowly fading away in places. Not that he feels the need to buy a new one; it totally fits in with his style.

 

‘’Well, not your actual shower. Just the plumbing. I can hear it whenever you turn on your shower.’’ Something about Zayn makes him seem nervous. His leg is jiggling and his fingers are tapping a rhythm on his glass. Harry feels relieved when Zayn places it on the table.

 

Harry almost places a hand on Zayn’s knee to stop the jiggling, but rests his hands in his lap instead. ‘’You okay? You seem… nervous.’’

 

‘’I need to talk to you about something.’’ Harry has a feeling it can’t be something good, because Zayn seems to have trouble looking him in the eye, his eyes focusing on different things throughout the room.

 

‘’Is it my shower? Does it wake you up?’’

 

‘’What?’’ Zayn looks at him then, brows furrowed. ‘’No, that’s not it.’’

 

Harry shrugs. ‘’Then what is it?’’ Honestly, he’s starting to feel agitated himself. Zayn always comes across as cool and collected, so whatever’s got him in this state must be bad.

 

‘’I need to tell you something, and I need you to not interrupt me, because I’m not sure if I could continue if you did. I’m- it’s not easy.’’

 

‘’Hey.’’ Harry does place a hand on his knee this time, using the gesture as a way to comfort Zayn and stop his leg from bouncing at the same time. ‘’I’m listening and won’t say anything unless you give me the sign, okay?’’

 

Zayn nods, his eyes glued to Harry’s hand. ‘’Yeah. Okay.’’

 

While he waits for Zayn to start talking, Harry thinks about how Zayn came to him of all people. It’s obviously a big deal, whatever he is going to say, and he is adamant on proving to Zayn that he made the right decision, that he can be a great support. And Harry knows he’s good at it, had plenty of practice with the children at the daycare, knows how to be gentle and caring without it being overbearing. It’s one of the things he loves about his job, the feeling of people trusting you and coming to you for comfort, even if they’re just children.

 

‘’Okay.’’ Zayn takes a deep breath, straightening his spine. ‘’You remember that one time you caught me leaving Louis’ place, but I didn’t want to tell you what it was about?’’ Harry nods, trying not to pout at the thought of Zayn maybe _not_ going to him first. ‘’Good. I needed his confirmation on something very important before coming here. Friday evening I talked to Liam about it, and he gave me some insight on the situation. You know, sometimes you need an outsider to clear things up, because I know I can get stuck in my head sometimes - or, all the time - and all it does is make me completely oblivious to what’s really going on. And Liam knows me, can basically read me like a book, you know?’’

 

Harry nods again, but he’s running on autopilot. He has a weird sensation crawling up his spine and his throat feels dry, because Zayn is taking a long time building up to something that Harry has absolutely no clue about, and it’s frightening in a way. It seems like an awfully big thing that Zayn managed to hide from him, even discussing it with other people before coming here. Why is the order of things so important? What did Zayn need to know before he could talk to Harry? _What is it?_

 

Zayn smiles nervously, holds up his hand in a _wait_ motion while he reaches for his glass and gulps down half of its contents. ‘’This is where I really need you to not interrupt me.’’

 

‘’Okay.’’ Harry’s voice comes out softer than he intended. He instinctively squeezes Zayn’s knee, urging him to go on.

 

‘’Liam said he told you about how he saw me falling out of love with him, but that’s only part of the story,’’ Zayn explains, playing with the rings on his fingers. ‘’Thing is, Liam isn’t the only one who found someone new.’’

 

Harry thinks his heart forgot how to beat, because he can’t feel it anymore. It went from pounding in his ears to an eerie quiet, all sensations lost.

 

‘’I fell out of love with Liam, and in love with someone else,’’ Zayn confesses, eyes lighting up. ‘’They’re the most amazing person, and they don’t even realise it. I fell in love with someone who lets me be _me_ , who helps people without needing to be asked, who is simply beautiful inside and out, and makes me feel better just by being present.’’

 

Zayn looks absolutely smitten, and Harry can only think about how he doesn’t want to hear this, _anything but this_ , because every word is like glass in an open wound. He’s starting to wonder if there is a way for Zayn to break his heart enough so Harry could finally stop loving him, break away the pieces that have Zayn’s name branded on them. Although, on second thought, that’s a bad idea.

 

Because then Zayn would have to break away all of him.

 

‘’It took me long enough to realise, but,’’ Zayn sighs, his hand coming to rest on top of Harry’s and eyes, wide and determined, staring into his, ‘’I love you.’’

 

‘’What.’’ Stop. Rewind. Harry could _not_ have heard that right.

 

Zayn’s grip on his hand tightens, eyes softening. ‘’I love _you_ , Harry.’’

 

‘’Me?’’ When Zayn just nods at him, surprisingly, the first emotion to come rushing back to Harry, is anger. ‘’You asshole!’’ he says, hitting Zayn on the arm. ‘’All this time you made me think you were talking about someone else and I felt like- You _asshole_!’’

 

‘’I’m sorry,’’ Zayn says, and he sounds so sincere that Harry just… deflates.

 

‘’You love me,’’ Harry repeats, mulling over the concept in his head and feeling his mouth spread into such a wide smile it even hurts a bit, but he doesn’t care because _Zayn loves him_. Nothing can hurt him anymore, he feels invincible, his heart battering against his ribs, completely whole once more. ‘’And,’’ he twists his hand so he can glide his thumb over Zayn’s knuckles, ‘’I love you.’’

 

Zayn bites down on his bottom lip, eyes shining with mirth.

 

‘’You want to say it, don’t you?’’ Harry teases, chuckling when Zayn nods sheepishly. ‘’Go ahead, then. I’ll repeat it for you: I love you.’’

 

‘’I know.’’

 

‘’I’m such a pushover.’’ Harry isn’t really complaining, because Zayn’s smile is worth anything. ‘’And the person I love is a giant nerd.’’

 

‘’The person you love also comes with perks,’’ Zayn says, smile transforming into something more shy. ‘’If you’re interested in them.’’

 

Harry tilts his head, takes in the way Zayn’s eyes linger on his lips, can’t stop his own from doing the same. ‘’If the perks include kissing, then I’m _definitely_ interested.’’

 

‘’It is included, among other things,’’ Zayn pauses, scoots closer until their knees are pressed together, close enough for Harry to catch a whiff of his cologne, warm and enticing, ‘’and since you’re interested, I definitely encourage you to take advantage of those perks. Whenever you like.’’

 

His hand shoots up of its own accord, resting against Zayn’s pulse point. There is something grounding about the quick heartbeat he can feel against his fingers, the roughness of stubble where his thumb glides along Zayn’s jaw. ‘’You know,’’ he says, voice nearly a whisper, ‘’the same goes for you.’’

 

Zayn’s breath hitches, his hand tightening its hold on Harry’s where they’re still clasped together. ‘’I really want to kiss you.’’

 

Harry huffs out a breath, hand sliding to the back of Zayn’s neck and shuddering when Zayn does the same to him, pulling him closer until their foreheads are resting together. ‘’Go ahead.’’

 

Unlike the fire he feels in his veins, their first kiss is delicate. Tentative and exploring, completely disregarding the fact that Harry’s heart is like a battering ram inside his chest, skin tingling wherever Zayn rests his hand. He tries to focus his mind on the smooth slide of their lips together, the warmth of them and how he can feel Zayn’s breath more than hear it.

 

It stops too soon for his liking, but he needs a moment to gather himself, go over the fact that he just kissed Zayn and that he’ll get to do it a lot more.

 

Whenever he wants.

 

‘’I think,’’ Zayn whispers, both of his hands now gripping onto Harry’s T-shirt, ‘’we have to do that again. Like, right now.’’

 

‘’Or all the time.’’

 

‘’Yeah,’’ Zayn pulls him closer, kissing him firmly but shortly, ‘’all the time.’’

 

This time it’s very much like the fire Harry feels in his veins, less careful now they both know they enjoy it, that it feels right. He pulls Zayn in closer, as far as possible without actually sitting in his lap, mouth falling open on a gasp when Zayn bites down on his bottom lip. Harry discovers then that Zayn apparently likes to kiss deep, but he doesn’t mind, not at all, because everything else is static in the background and all Harry feels is the slide of their tongues together and the hand twisting in his hair and-

 

He breaks away, gasping for breath.

 

‘’I-’’ he gulps in air- ‘’forgot to breathe.’’

 

Zayn just looks smug, eyes lingering on Harry’s lips. ‘’Make sure you remember next time.’’

 

Next time. Harry likes the sound of that.

 

***

 

Due to an excess of excited energy, Harry finds himself waking up too early again. He can’t remember the last time he’s been this happy. On a Monday, of all days, and in the _morning_ , no less.

 

It’s Zayn’s fault, really.

 

Harry still has trouble wrapping his head around it, feeling like he accidentally stepped into a different reality when he got out of bed. A reality where he’s so happy that he can’t stop smiling; even struggles with brushing his teeth because of it. Every time he thinks of Zayn, how he loves Harry back, it makes his stomach flutter like he just took a dive in a rollercoaster.

 

Oh dear. He’s going to be one of those obnoxiously happy people. His friends will hate him. Well, they’ll be happy for him first, but after that they will hate him. Although Louis seemed to have skipped the happy part, going straight to hating Harry when he woke him up too early for his liking, only to tell him about something he already knew was going to happen. Normally Harry would feel put out by that, but he’s just too happy to be bothered by it.

 

Not even waiting outside in the breezy and downright cold morning can dampen his mood. Harry waves at Al through the shop window when the man flips around the small board on the door, effectively opening his bakery for business. Al pauses for a moment, and then waves back before disappearing in the back again.

 

Harry tucks a stray curl behind his ear, shoving his hand back in his coat pocket afterward. The sun is slowly rising, gaining height in a perfectly clear sky. Its rays provide a tiny bit of warmth, and Harry tilts his head back against the brick of the building to take it all in.

 

The door opens to his right, and Harry only smiles when Zayn steps outside, head bowed down until he notices Harry and visibly perks up.

 

‘’You waited.’’

 

‘’Of course.’’ Harry has to blink against the sun to watch Zayn, but he’s blinded regardless.

 

‘’Good.’’ Zayn bends to place his travel mug down and moves to stand in front of Harry. ‘’I needed to ask you something.’’

 

‘’Hm?’’ Harry already feels like they’re wasting time by talking, his hand coming up to play with the zipper on Zayn’s coat. It’s a shame that it’s so cold outside, because Harry knows what’s underneath it, can see Zayn’s tie where Harry dragged the zipper down. One of Harry’s favourite things is when they hang out after work and Zayn still has it on. Without the jacket, and his sleeves rolled up. The first time he saw Zayn like that he had to quickly make up an excuse about going to the bathroom because he couldn’t possibly freak out about it quietly.

 

He doesn’t have to be quiet about it anymore.

 

‘’Now that this is a thing,’’ Zayn waves his hand between them, stepping closer when Harry pulls on his zipper, ‘’does that mean I get to call you my boyfriend?’’

 

‘’You can call me whatever you want,’’ Harry muses, nosing along Zayn’s jaw. He smells fresh and clean, with a hint of spice. _So good_.

 

‘’Harry.’’

 

‘’What?’’ Harry pulls back, finds Zayn watching him with a serious expression. ‘’Okay. _Yes_ , you get to call me your boyfriend. We are officially in a relationship.’’

 

‘’Thank you.’’ Zayn pecks him on the lips, and Harry almost yelps when he feels a hand slip into his back pocket.

 

Harry just gapes at Zayn when he unlocks _his_ phone on the first try. ‘’You hacked into my phone.’’

 

‘’You’re predictable,’’ Zayn deadpans, fingers tapping away on the screen.

 

‘’What are you doing?’’

 

‘’Giving you my number.’’

 

Harry snorts. ‘’We’ve got this whole thing backwards, don’t we?’’

 

Zayn locks Harry’s phone again, slipping it back in his pocket and tapping his butt afterwards. ‘’I can think of some other things we could backwards.’’

 

‘’Oh-’’

 

‘’Shut up,’’ Zayn interrupts him, grinning. ‘’I know.’’

 

‘’You’re so hot when you’re smug,’’ Harry blurts, instantly feeling his face heat up when Zayn laughs. Seems he isn’t done embarrassing himself quite yet.

 

‘’Good to know.’’ Zayn finally closes the distance then, and Harry feels himself getting pressed against the wall, but it’s bliss. He can taste coffee and something sweet on Zayn’s tongue, sucks it greedily into his mouth until everything else falls away, until he can only feel the warmth pressing against him, in stark contrast with the cold wall at his back.

 

They lose track of time, which results in Zayn cursing and running off with a rushed _Iloveyou_ , while Harry stands frozen on the spot, his heart dancing in his chest. He watches Zayn a bit longer until he vanishes around the corner, pulling his phone out of his pocket to compose a text message. Harry starts walking as he types out the _I love you too_ , scrolling through his contacts afterwards to select a recipient.

 

Apparently Zayn named himself ‘best boyfriend on the planet.’

 

Harry can’t think of something more fitting.

 

 

The moment he sets foot in the daycare, Cassandra is right in front of him, demanding why he’s _ten minutes_ late. In all the years that he’s worked there, he has never once been late. It’s astonishing, really.

 

Also, in all the years that he’s worked there, he never had a reason to be late. Now, Harry has the best reason ever. As soon as Cass hears what is is, she’s going to freak out.

 

 _I’m going to enjoy this_ , Harry thinks while he pushes past her to hang up his coat.

 

‘’Well?’’ she presses, looking concerned and hopeful at the same time, because Harry can’t stop smiling. His cheeks are starting to ache.

 

‘’I was busy.’’ Harry’s just stalling now. He can’t help it.

 

‘’Busy _how_?’’

 

‘’You know, snogging my boyfriend.’’

 

‘’Your-’’ She falls quiet, and Harry can _see_ her thinking, her eyes widening the moment realisation hits her. A shriek pierces the air and before Harry knows it he has small arms wrapped around him and a mouthful of fluffy black hair.

 

A few of the older children poke their heads around the door, cautious until they spot Harry. It doesn’t take long before they all come running towards him, wrapping their tiny arms around his legs to create a mass hug.

 

It might just be the best Monday, ever.

 

***

 

After some pushing, Zayn finally agreed to go to the park with him. It’s a perfect day to take photos; it’s overcast, and the wind is strong enough to whip up the leaves spread over the ground. Zayn asked him why he’d want to take photos of such a dull and dreary day, to which Harry just told him that there’s beauty in everything. No wonder Zayn couldn’t get into photography.

 

‘’I still don’t get it,’’ Zayn calls from where he’s sitting on a bench. Harry is hunched over in the grass, camera focused on a tree and waiting for the perfect gust of wind. ‘’And why does it have to be today?’’

 

‘’Because,’’ Harry sighs, shifting in place, ‘’if it was sunny it wouldn’t convey the right mood. Also, I can’t take photos after it’s rained because then the leaves would be wet.’’

 

‘’Wet leaves would mean bad photos?’’ Zayn asks, coming over to sit next to Harry in the grass.

 

‘’Yes.’’ He feels it then, wind building up from his right side. The grass ripples and the leaves dance up into the air, swaying to the ground again a good distance away. Harry takes a look at the photos he took and lets out a heavy breath. ‘’Done,’’ he says, flopping down on his back. His legs were really starting to cramp.

 

‘’Can I see?’’ Zayn asks, but grabs his camera without waiting for a reply, using Harry’s stomach as a pillow for his head. ‘’These are really good,’’ he says a few moments later.

 

Harry lets his hand drift to Zayn’s cheek, caressing it and smiling when his boyfriend turns his head to press a kiss against it. ‘’Thank you.’’

 

‘’Hey-’’ Zayn lies down on his side, next to Harry- ‘’I have an idea.’’

 

‘’Yeah?’’ Harry turns his head, nose brushing against Zayn’s. Their legs are entwined, stealing warmth from each other.

 

‘’Just keep looking at me.’’

 

Harry does as he’s told, watching Zayn’s warm eyes and then his full lips, slightly chapped from the cold weather. There’s the telltale click of his camera, and Harry smiles then, completely onto what Zayn is doing. It only feels natural to close his eyes and tilt his head so their lips meet, the camera clicking a few more times until apparently Zayn gives up and places it on the ground.

 

It’s a good thing the park is nearly empty - not unusual for a Saturday morning - because Harry doesn’t think parents would approve. Also, it’s better for the photos if nobody can walk into his shots. He sighs into the kiss, practically melting into the ground when Zayn leans over him and gets the angle just right.

 

‘’Fuck,’’ Harry curses when Zayn slides a cold hand under his shirt and coat, and over his stomach. ‘’That’s cold.’’

 

‘’I forgot my gloves.’’ Zayn noses along his jaw, pressing light kisses there and _still not moving his hand_. ‘’You’re warm.’’

 

‘’We can go back inside,’’ Harry offers, scrunching up his nose when Zayn kisses it.

 

‘’I’m good. Got my personal heater with me. My own little sun.’’

 

Harry scoffs, but smiles nonetheless. ‘’You’re so... ‘’

 

‘’Perfect?’’ Zayn suggests, resting his head on Harry’s chest. ‘’Amazing?’’

 

‘’You’re something, alright.’’

 

‘’That’s lame. You’re lame.’’

 

‘’But you love me.’’ Harry lets his hand card through Zayn’s hair, the soft strands slipping through his fingers.

 

‘’ _That_ , I do.’’

 

*

 

Late that evening, as they’re watching television after giving up on a particularly bad movie halfway through, Harry finds himself thinking of his mother. Zayn is dozing on his shoulder, eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks. There’s no conversation to distract him from his thoughts.

 

His mother invited them both over to stay at the house. After hearing so much about Zayn she is adamant on meeting him. Especially since she’s going to stay with her friend in Scotland for Christmas and New Year’s. The next opportunity to see them might not be until Harry’s birthday.

 

Harry thinks about what it would mean; bringing Zayn over to meet his mother and spend the night in the house he grew up in. It’s not something a new couple like them does, but then, they’ve never been like the rest. Them being together feels nothing but _right_. Easy, like they’ve been doing it for years.

 

Of course Zayn said yes, he’d go, but he would probably say yes to anything involving Harry. Not that Harry gets to comment on that, because he feels exactly the same about Zayn.

 

And maybe that’s what it means.

 

They’re just in love, because loving each other is what they do best.

 

***

 

Driving to his old home is something Harry used to dread, because spending hours by yourself in a car isn’t what he thinks of as a great way to pass time, only this time he’s not alone. Zayn is with him.

 

Which means they can suffer together.

 

‘’Hey.’’ Harry pokes Zayn in the side when he’s about to fall asleep with a half-eaten croissant in his hand, making sure to keep his other hand on the wheel. ‘’Wakey wakey.’’

 

Zayn grunts, not opening his eyes but resuming his eating. ‘’Early.’’

 

Harry rolls his eyes. ‘’You knew we were leaving early, yet you still wanted to stay up to finish the episode.’’ He glances at Zayn from the corner of his eye, who is now grumpily munching on his breakfast, and adds, ‘’And then you watched _another one_.’’

 

‘’Not my fault there was a cliffhanger,’’ Zayn defends himself, appearing slightly more awake.

 

‘’You wouldn’t have seen the cliffhanger if you didn’t finish the episode,’’ Harry argues.

 

‘’Because _that’s_ not a cliffhanger?’’

 

‘’Drink your coffee.’’

 

‘’Bossy,’’ Zayn mumbles, but still grabs his travel mug.

 

‘’Grumpy,’’ Harry counters, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.

 

‘’Know what would cheer me up?’’ Zayn twists in his seat, facing Harry.

 

Harry keeps only part of his attention on the road, which is nearly empty because it’s a Saturday morning and most people are probably sleeping in, instead of on their way somewhere. ‘’What’s that?’’

 

‘’Pull over and I’ll show you.’’

 

‘’ _Zayn!_ ’’

 

*

 

They make it to his mother’s house unscathed, save for cramped muscles and rumbling stomachs. It’s lunch-time, and Harry’s mum promised them homemade sandwiches.

 

But not before a proper greeting.

 

Harry has just enough time to close the car door before she’s hugging him, whispering how much she missed him and kissing him on his cheeks. From years of experience, he knows to just let her do her thing. Not that he hates the attention. He missed his mother, too.

 

‘’You must be Zayn,’’ she says, and Harry watches as she walks to the other side of the car to kiss him on the cheek and give him a hug. It’s not as enthusiastic as she was with Harry, but he knows she’ll grow to love Zayn.

 

When Harry is done carrying their bags upstairs to his old bedroom - which is now the guest room - he joins them in the kitchen, where the promised sandwiches are lying on a platter, next to a large pot of tea. They sit on the high stools, the ones Harry knows not to lean back on because he _will_ fall, and eat quietly for the first few minutes.

 

It’s strange, how well Zayn fits in the picture. For as long as Harry can remember it’s always been him and his mother - sometimes his step-father Robin, but he’s away on a business trip now. But now there’s a third member, sitting with them like he’s been there from the very start.

 

His mother doesn’t waste any time, dives right into the childhood stories about Harry growing up in this very house, about his shenanigans in the backyard on the lawn mower, even about the bakery he used to work at.

 

‘’You should show him around,’’ she tells Harry, refilling their cups with tea. It’s a bit stronger than what Harry likes, but he drinks it nonetheless.

 

‘’But-’’

 

‘’Be back by dinner,’’ she interrupts him. ‘’That will still give us plenty of time.’’

 

Sometimes Harry forgets how amazing his mother is with people. She probably already has part of the Zayn puzzle solved, figured he would appreciate a break from his boyfriend’s mother to let things settle.

 

If there’s anyone with a brain as busy as Harry’s, it’s probably Zayn.

 

*

 

It’s not the most exciting thing one can do, but Harry enjoys showing Zayn around, letting him into pieces of his past. The bakery he worked at as a teenager is closed, but they crowd up against the window to look inside while Harry rambles on about his old - no really, they were _old_ -  bosses. Up next is the small church, and Harry is a bit more reluctant to share that particular story, but after some convincing he gives up and tells Zayn about his rebellious phase and sudden interest in the church during sixth form.

 

The entire time Zayn just _listens_ and asks and it’s almost startling to see the amount of genuine interest. Anyone else would have been bored out of their mind, cut Harry off between his story about getting fired from his supermarket job for snogging a customer - it’s a _long_ story - and the one involving Harry, a bet, and his mother’s dress. Although the latter is actually amusing, if he says so himself.

 

‘’You’re amazing,’’ Zayn tells him out of nowhere, cutting him off mid-sentence and effectively silencing him. Harry has been told so many times; as a joke, as a way of praising his skill as a photographer, but never as a way of telling him that _he_ is amazing. Him, as a person.

 

Harry tries to reply, finds he can only open and close his mouth like a fish, so instead thanks Zayn by kissing him against the iron fence of his old school. If he can’t get across his message with his lips and tongue and the hands almost reverently touching Zayn, at least it would be something to enjoy.

 

But from the look Zayn gives him afterwards, Harry can tell he understood just fine.

 

*

 

The three of them cook dinner together, arguing over which spices to use and what wine goes best with spaghetti bolognese. Turns out neither of them really know the answer to the latter, and they leave the spices to Zayn because he’s the guest and it solves the argument easily enough.

 

Harry is doing the dishes with his mother while Zayn is sent to the living room to look for something decent to watch on the television. It’s not long before the expected conversation arrives.

 

‘’So,’’ his mother hands him another clean plate to dry, ‘’you and Zayn seem serious.’’

 

‘’Very.’’ Harry nods, carefully storing the plate in the cupboard.

 

She rinses her hands, patting them dry with the towel slung over her shoulder. ‘’You know, I was afraid that…’’ She bites down on her bottom lip and gives him a sad smile. ‘’I’m glad you found him.’’

 

‘’Mum…’’

 

‘’No, really. I think he was worth the wait, honey. He’s good for you.’’

 

Harry sighs. ‘’Mum, I’m not _old_.’’

 

‘’Physically, no.’’ She pats his cheek, stands up on her toes to kiss his forehead. ‘’I love you, and I’m happy for you.’’

 

‘’Thanks.’’ Harry gives in, then, curling his arms around his mother and breathing in the scent of home and comfort. ‘’I love you, too.’’

 

*

 

The hour is late when they retreat upstairs for the night, spurred on by the lack of interesting content on the television and empty glasses of wine. They kiss Harry’s mother goodnight and take turns in the bathroom attached to their bedroom. Harry doesn’t think much of anything, not until he steps out of the bathroom last to find Zayn already in bed, sitting up and scrolling through something on his phone.

 

Zayn looks up, face illuminated by the screen. ‘’Did you want the right side?’’

 

‘’No.’’ Harry still doesn’t move, just stands still at the edge of the bed.

 

‘’You okay?’’

 

‘’I’m-’’ Harry shakes his head, looks at the left side of the bed where Zayn has pulled back the duvet for him. ‘’Can’t remember the last time I shared a bed with anyone. I mean, besides Niall. In a romantic way, you know.’’

 

Zayn places his phone on the nightstand, and switches on the lamp. It casts a soft orange glow, just enough light to see by. ‘’Does it make you uncomfortable?’’

 

‘’What? No!’’ Harry supports his statement by finally moving, slipping under the covers on his side of the bed and sitting to face Zayn, who is still regarding him with a concerned expression. ‘’Just, more of a realisation?’’

 

‘’Okay.’’ Zayn leans in, pecks him on the lips. ‘’Speaking of realisations. There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask.’’

 

‘’Yes?’’

 

‘’Out of curiosity, you know.’’ Zayn swallows, tangles his fingers together on top of the duvet. ‘’When did you know? I mean, that you were in love with me.’’

 

Harry breathes a laugh, looks up at the ceiling. ‘’I remember it vividly. You know the night you locked yourself out and had to climb over the balcony?’’

 

‘’Of course. You were wearing those smiley pants.’’

 

‘’Niall gave them to me.’’ Harry looks back down to find Zayn smiling softly, lips tilted ever so slightly. ‘’But, it was that night. You scared me, you know. At first by climbing over the balcony and after that by how you managed to find your way into here,’’ Harry says, placing a hand over his chest. ‘’Next to my heart.’’

 

‘’Next to?’’ Zayn snorts. ‘’Don’t you mean, like, inside?’’

 

Harry shakes his head. ‘’My heart couldn’t possibly hold all my love for you.’’

 

‘’Idiot,’’ Zayn says, but it sounds fond, and there’s so much warmth in his eyes and the way he smiles that Harry feels his heart burn a little bit, chest going hot in the best way. ‘’You knew I was going to ask that.’’

 

‘’Maybe.’’ Harry shrugs. ‘’It’s also a metaphor. Kind of.’’

 

‘’For what?’’

 

‘’My home is my heart, and you moved in next door.’’

 

Zayn laughs, slapping his hand in front of his mouth to stifle himself. ‘’I had no idea you were going to be such a _sap_ ,’’ he breathes, still giggling.

 

Harry wiggles his eyebrows. ‘’You bring out the best in me.’’

 

‘’I’m not so sure about that.’’

 

‘’You’re an angel sent from above, there could be no-’’

 

‘’Harry, _stop_.’’ Zayn shoves at his shoulder, but doesn’t remove his hand afterwards.

 

‘’I could serenade you,’’ Harry offers, covering Zayn’s hand with his own. ‘’I would!’’

 

‘’ _Oh my God_. Shut up. Please.’’

 

It’s too easy. So easy Harry should feel ashamed, but he takes advantage of the opportunity, smiling wickedly. ‘’Make me.’’

 

‘’ _That_ ,’’ Zayn drawls, leaning in closer, ‘’I can do.’’

 

Harry lets himself be dragged in closer by his shoulder, meeting Zayn’s lips halfway and opening himself to the warmth, letting all the sensations wash over him like liquid sunshine. Zayn keeps tugging and taking, and Harry just follows, allows himself to be pulled into Zayn’s lap, their bare legs brushing together.

 

There’s no thinking for once, Harry simply can’t find it in himself, too caught up in the moment with Zayn sucking on his tongue and snaking his hands under Harry’s loose T-shirt.

 

‘’You know,’’ he pants, shuddering when Zayn starts kissing down his neck, ‘’I haven’t even seen you without your shirt yet.’’

 

Zayn chuckles and leans away from Harry to look up at him through his lashes, and Harry feels like he just got struck by lightning, his blood rushing downwards. Without saying anything, Zayn reaches back and tugs his own shirt over his head, throwing it towards the foot of the bed.

 

‘’Now you have.’’

 

Harry sucks in a breath, reaching his hand out and brushing it over Zayn’s soft skin, over the hairs beneath his belly button, up to his smooth chest. He watches his hand rise and fall with Zayn’s breathing, fast and excited.

 

‘’Can I?’’ Zayn asks, tugging on Harry’s shirt and waiting for his nod before helping him slip it off and over his head. It joins Zayn’s shirt somewhere on the bed, or off the bed. It doesn’t matter. Zayn takes his time to look at Harry, fingers gliding over his skin, their eyes snapping together when he brushes over his nipples and Harry can’t remember anything ever feeling this good. ‘’You’re beautiful.’’

 

That’s enough talking, he decides, so he leans forward to kiss Zayn again, this time with a little more purpose and heat to it, letting his hands touch without giving them direction.

 

Harry’s thought of them in this position, panting and holding onto each other, with him grinding down onto Zayn in a way that makes their hard dicks brush together just right. Now that it’s really happening, it’s really difficult to grasp. Although even just breathing is hard to focus on now, with Zayn licking down his chest and biting on one of his nipples.

 

‘’ _Fuck_.’’ Harry almost slams his hand against the wall, just barely managing to grab onto the headboard instead. He grinds down hard then, making Zayn gasp into his neck, feeling a little lightheaded when two hands slip into his underwear to grab his ass, squeezing and helping to add more force whenever he rolls his hips.

 

‘’Close, so close,’’ Zayn whispers, his voice sounding strained.

 

‘’Come on.’’ Harry sucks onto the spot below Zayn’s ear, the one that always makes his eyes roll back into his head. ‘’Come for me.’’

 

‘’ _Harry_.’’ Zayn shudders underneath him, and Harry only has a moment to appreciate the sight when a finger brushing over his hole makes him come with a whimper, clutching onto Zayn’s shoulders and burying his face in his neck.

 

Harry falls back onto the bed, breathing harshly and looking at Zayn with which he knows is a stupid smile, because he _feels_ stupid. ‘’We just dry humped. Like teenagers.’’

 

Zayn hums, smiling back at him. ‘’It’s a good place to start. If the dry humping’s good, just imagine the rest.’’

 

‘’Oh, I can.’’

 

‘’Idiot,’’ Zayn says fondly, leaning over him and kissing him softly. ‘’Love you.’’

 

Harry grins, his hand finding Zayn’s and squeezing. ‘’My love for you is bigger than the amount of stars there are in the entire universe.’’

 

‘’There’s no way I can top that,’’ Zayn sighs.

 

‘’No.’’ Harry rolls onto his stomach, wriggles his bottom. ‘’But you can top _this_.’’

 

‘’Very tempting.’’ Zayn taps him on the butt once before scooting off the bed. ‘’But, it’s time to clean up, and then go to sleep.’’

 

‘’Spoilsport.’’

 

***

 

Hectic, is the word Harry would use to describe the past two weeks. After Christmas shopping and actually celebrating it - with Louis getting double the amount of gifts because of his birthday - New Year’s Eve is a welcome break.

 

There are only the four of them - Niall, Louis, Harry, and Zayn - lounging on Niall’s couch with beer and takeout. It’s tradition, only it used to be cheap beer and instant noodles, so this is definitely a step up from that. If there is a better way or place to celebrate the start of a new year, Harry can’t think of it. Especially not curled up into Zayn’s side - _definitely_ a step up from previous times.

 

The funny thing is, time seems to slow down to a glacial pace on New Year’s Eve, with everyone watching the minutes tick by on the clock. It’s easier with good company, though. Harry remembers celebrating it as a child, not being able to join in with the adults and fighting to stay awake with the other children. Fun times.

 

Okay so what hasn’t _really_ changed is that he gets sleepy somewhere around eleven, but he doesn’t feel bad about snoozing on Zayn’s shoulder for a bit because he knows they won’t forget or be too busy to wake him. Although, one time Louis and Niall purposely let him sleep through the countdown only to shout into his ear right after. But, after giving them the cold shoulder for a week they eventually caved and promised to wake him at least five minutes beforehand. He can be cruel when he needs to be.

 

The snoozing isn’t going according to plan, because Zayn’s not having it. ‘’C’mon, don’t fall asleep now.’’ He jostles Harry, who just grunts and buries his face in Zayn’s neck. It’s warm and smells nice.

 

‘’Told you he’s the worst,’’ Louis scoffs. Harry tries to flip him off, but from the sound of the snickers he can tell the direction was probably off. Doesn’t matter, he got the message across.

 

‘’He buys you food when you’re asleep,’’ Niall defends Harry, and effectively shuts Louis up on the matter.

 

‘’That’s my best friend,’’ Harry mumbles, yawning and pushing himself off Zayn to blink at the bright television screen. ‘’Slap me,’’ he says, turning towards his boyfriend.

 

‘’Um.’’ Louis coughs into his fist. ‘’Not here, Harry?’’

 

‘’Oh for- that’s _not_ what I meant,’’ Harry sighs in exasperation. ‘’Gotta stay awake.’’

 

‘’Could give you an ice bath.’’

 

Harry rolls his eyes. ‘’Helpful, Niall. Thanks.’’

 

‘’Just one more hour,’’ Zayn says. He kisses Harry on the temple and slings an arm around his shoulders. ‘’You got this.’’

 

‘’And even if I don’t, I still got you.’’

 

‘’They’re sickening, aren’t they?’’ Louis like to complain about them. Harry likes riling him up. It’s a match made in hell.

 

‘’Louis, if you don’t stop complaining I’ll give _you_ an ice bath,’’ Niall scolds him.

 

‘’I’ve got a New Year’s revolution for you all: be nicer,’’ Zayn pipes up.

 

‘’Right,’’ Louis scoffs, ‘’like _you’re_ an angel.’’

 

‘’He is,’’ Harry intervenes, kissing Zayn on the cheek.

 

Niall tells Louis to stop complaining and help him clean up after that, while Harry goes back to dozing on Zayn’s shoulder. He takes the time to reflect and think about the year, how much has happened that he never could have anticipated. How Zayn just rolled into his life and found a place where he fit perfectly. It reminds him of the first time Louis joined Harry and Niall, who were the ones to start the tradition as fresh adults, because celebrating New Year’s Eve alone made them feel ‘mature’. Also, it was an excuse to get drunk without their parents’ judging eyes.

 

Now that they’re older and the tradition has lost its shine, with the evening not just being one of many nights spent drinking but a night used to wind down from a busy week of work, Harry seems to enjoy it more. They’re building something for themselves, here. Adding people to the mix until they’ve got their own family, celebrating the present moment and their future together.

 

Harry knows that they, the five of them including Liam - who is now with his parents - are going to be the base. The ground from which they will build things up, an unbreakable foundation. Others may come and go, but they will always stick together.

 

‘’You asleep?’’ Zayn asks him, hand rubbing up and down his shoulder.

 

‘’No,’’ Harry mumbles, shaking his head.

 

‘’Okay.’’ Zayn runs a hand through Harry’s hair. It’s soothing, comforting. ‘’Ten more minutes.’’

 

‘’Anything you want to say?’’ Harry tries to look up at Zayn, only catches a glimpse of his cheekbone and long lashes.

 

‘’Plenty.’’

 

Harry sits up, hooking his chin over Zayn’s shoulder and studying his features. ‘’Is it sappy? Romantic?’’

 

‘’Maybe.’’ Zayn turns his head, bumping his nose against Harry’s.

 

‘’Gonna tell me?’’ Harry whispers, brushing his lips against Zayn’s.

 

‘’Don’t know where to start.’’

 

‘’The beginning.’’

 

Zayn sighs, bumping their foreheads together. ‘’Not sure when it started, though. You crept up on me. Took me over piece by piece, and I only realised what you were doing when you had all of me.’’

 

‘’Go on,’’ Harry whispers, closing his eyes and focusing on his heart beating steadily in his chest, the tilt of his lips that he just can’t seem to control around Zayn. Always smiling, always happy.

 

‘’Alright.’’ Zayn sounds amused, and Harry melts into the hand resting at the back of his neck. Warmth and security. ‘’This might sound dramatic, but I know you love that. I also know that you would sacrifice your happiness for others’, that you’re patient and caring, that you’re not the best with words but you don’t need to be because your words weren’t what made me fall in love with you. But, the best thing I know yet, is that you love me back.’’

 

‘’Can I let you know something else?’’

 

Zayn kisses him, softly. ‘’You? Always.’’

 

Harry felt his heart climb up his throat with every word Zayn spoke, until it was at his lips and ready to pour out, blood rushing in his ears the crowd cheering him on. ‘’I know, like you said, I don’t have to be the best with words, but I want to be. Because I don’t know how to _show_ you that you’re the first thing I want to see in the morning, that you may be the best thing to have ever happened to me, and that I never want to let you go.’’

 

Zayn just chuckles and pulls him in further until their cheeks are resting together. ‘’Have you forgotten that I can read you like an open book? You _are_ showing it, Harry. You show me every day.’’

 

‘’Oi!’’ Louis yells, throwing a pillow against their heads. ‘’The countdown is starting, dicks!’’

 

Harry throws the pillow back at Louis and faces Zayn again, eyes wide. ‘’How?’’

 

Zayn cups Harry’s face in his hands. Somewhere in the background he can hear his friends, shouting through the last three seconds. _Three. Two._ ‘’Like this.’’ _One_. And Zayn kisses him.

 

Kisses him into a new year together, and after that, hopefully, a lifetime.

 

 

 

** EPILOGUE**

 

‘’ _Harry_.’’

 

He’s asleep. Or _was_ , before a certain someone decided to wake him. The light blanket they slept under is down to his hips, but Harry doesn’t feel a difference in temperature.

 

Bloody heat waves.

 

‘’Babe.’’ The voice is there again, along with a body, pressing against his back. It’s hot, but not necessarily in a bad way. ‘’Wake up.’’

 

‘’Wha for?’’ Harry grumbles into his pillow, picking up the hand slung over his waist and hugging it to his chest. A kiss is pressed to the back of his neck.

 

‘’We have over an hour before the kids wake up.’’

 

‘’Oh?’’ This catches his interest, and Harry twists around until he’s facing Zayn, already more awake. ‘’Want to start the day right?’’

 

‘’We’re going to need it.’’

 

‘’Alright.’’ Harry rolls back over, snatching breath mints from his nightstand and tossing one to Zayn while popping one into his own mouth. ‘’You lock the door.’’

 

‘’You’re weird,’’ Zayn comments, but he gets out of bed and does as told.

 

‘’Well-’’ Harry cocks an eyebrow- ‘’you knew that when you married me. Also, why tolerate morning breath when you don’t have to?’’

 

‘’I guess you’re right.’’ Zayn moves over to his own nightstand, tugs open the drawer and throws the bottle of lube at Harry. It hits him in the shoulder.

 

‘’Such a romantic.’’ Harry snorts. ‘’Want me to go ahead and undress myself?’’

 

‘’Sure,’’ Zayn deadpans. ‘’And while you’re at it, make sure to prep yourself. I’m not bottoming.’’

 

Harry’s hands pause on the way to his briefs. ‘’I thought it was your turn?’’

 

‘’Nope.’’ Zayn holds the box of condoms upside down, but nothing comes out. Empty. ‘’You put back the empty box. _Again_.’’

 

‘’Oh.’’ Harry feels his face redden and shrugs. ‘’You know I can’t think clearly when- never mind. I’ll get to it.’’

 

‘’Hey.’’ Zayn gets back on the bed, makes Harry look up into his eyes with a finger hooked under his chin. ‘’There’s no need to rush.’’

 

‘’Right.’’ Harry drops the bottle again, sinks into the pillows. ‘’Habit, you know.’’

 

‘’I know, babe.’’ Harry tilts back his head, sighing when he feels Zayn press soft kisses down his neck. ‘’We can be efficient when we need to be.’’

 

‘’Hm,’’ Harry hums in agreement, closing his eyes and focusing on the feeling of lips on his skin, going down, stopping at the edge of his briefs. ‘’But not today.’’

 

‘’Not today.’’

 

Harry watches as Zayn takes off his own briefs, then wriggles on the bed to help slip off his. He tugs Zayn down on the bed, rolls them over so he’s on top of Zayn, leg pressed between his. They take their time to kiss, something they don’t get to do often, not like this. Pressed close together and feeling everything heat up from the inside out as they inhale each other, tasting tongue and lips.

 

Slowly but surely Harry can feel his own dick harden where it’s pressed against Zayn’s hip, pausing their kissing to shove the bottle of lube in Zayn’s hand and targeting his neck with his lips instead to give him room to see what he’s doing. A cold, slicked finger brushes against his hole, making him shudder.

 

‘’Sorry,’’ Zayn mumbles, circling one arm around Harry’s waist, keeping their chests pressed together.

 

‘’’S fine.’’ Harry’s breath hitches when a finger slips in. He leans onto his forearms, arches his back so he can gaze into Zayn’s eyes, and they’re so deep, deep like the finger pressed inside him. Two, now.

 

‘’So good.’’ Harry bites down on his lip, hides his face in Zayn’s neck, feels his deepening breaths. ‘’Too heavy?’’ he asks.

 

‘’No.’’ Zayn crooks his fingers just right, making Harry whine in his throat. ‘’Like you on top of me.’’

 

‘’Good.’’ Harry’s brain feels slow, his entire body tingling. ‘’Like you inside me.’’

 

‘’I know.’’ Zayn connects their mouths again, effectively making his brain shut down by sucking on his tongue and adding a third finger. ‘’Almost?’’

 

‘’I’m good.’’ He pushes himself up, feeling himself clench when Zayn’s arms slip away. Harry looks down at Zayn’s dick, lying swollen and leaking on his belly. ‘’Liked that?’’

 

Zayn just nods, chest heaving and eyes wide and dark. ‘’Ride me?’’

 

‘’Yeah.’’ Harry swings a leg over so he’s straddling his husband, warming lube up in his hand before stroking it over his cock. ‘’Brace yourself.’’

 

‘’Right.’’ Zayn rolls his eyes, but his hands grip onto Harry’s hips, fingers digging into the soft skin.

 

‘’I’ll go slow,’’ Harry tells him, taking a deep breath before lining himself up and slowly sinking down, breathing through it until he’s seated. ‘’Missed this,’’ he confesses, slowly rolling his hips and watching Zayn bury his face inside a pillow. ‘’You gonna last?’’

 

Zayn faces him again, nodding before pushing himself up in a sitting position. ‘’I’m good.’’

 

Harry sighs, using Zayn’s shoulders to steady himself while he pushes up, feeling that tiny tremble in his legs already. It feels too good, with Zayn’s arms around him keeping him close, pressed together so his own dick rubs against Zayn’s stomach. Their skin slaps together, his legs start to shake.

 

‘’Can’t,’’ he pants, slumping against Zayn.

 

‘’C’mon.’’ Zayn redirects them so Harry’s lying on his stomach, head resting on a pillow and one leg hitched up. ‘’This good?’’

 

‘’Fuck,’’ Harry curses into a pillow when Zayn enters him slowly, a hand pressing into the small of his back.

 

‘’Take that as a yes.’’

 

Harry grumbles something, but it gets lost in the fabric of his pillow and the moan he lets out when Zayn gets the angle just right. Shit, he has to keep quiet. Don’t want to wake the kids. He can’t even remember the last time he was fucked properly like this, allowing the fire to build slowly in his gut. There’s a hot breath at his neck, followed by a mouth trailing wetly over his shoulders, and Harry loses himself in the sensation of Zayn on top of him, inside him, over him. Everywhere.

 

‘’Wanna see you,’’ Zayn pants, pulling out and flipping Harry over before he can even process what’s happening.

 

‘’Better,’’ Harry voices his approval, making grabby hands for Zayn’s face and groaning into his mouth when he feels himself stretch again, filled in the best way. ‘’More lube,’’ he demands, fumbling for the bottle.

 

Zayn finds it first, and Harry shivers at the cold slick feeling, but it warms up soon enough, making everything go smoother. He’s getting close, just needs that extra something, but Zayn pins his hands down on the mattress when he tries to reach down.

 

‘’Going to make you come,’’ Zayn whispers into his ear, ‘’untouched.’’

 

Harry whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut and letting his legs curl around Zayn more tightly. ‘’Go harder, then.’’

 

The bed creaks a little, but not too loud, and it helps that their bedroom is downstairs (which might have been a conscious decision), so there’s no slowing down needed. Not that Harry’s thinking about that as he feels everything tighten, his entire body seizing up and back arching, and then shattering, leaving static in his head.

 

When it clears up again, he’s breathing harshly, Zayn slumped on top of him and tickling his skin with his hot breath.

 

There really is no better way to start the day.

 

*

 

‘’Erica, no!’’ Harry rushes over to his three-year-old, sitting on the counter and seconds away from sticking her hand in the salad bowl. ‘’That’s for the barbecue.’’

 

‘’She causing trouble again?’’ Zayn calls over from the living room, where he’s helping their birthday boy Tom - short for Thomas - dress up in his pirate costume. He wanted a themed party, and neither of them could refuse.

 

‘’It’s fine,’’ he calls back, taking the bowl and placing it in the fridge, which is already nearly filled to the brim with food. They might have to buy a new fridge eventually, because their family keeps growing and it might not be long before it simply won’t fit anymore. There’s the four of them, Harry and Zayn’s parents, Zayn’s sisters, Niall, Cassandra, Liam and Olivia with their daughter Lucy, and normally there would be Louis but he’s on his honeymoon right now. It’s going to be busy.

 

Harry wipes down the kitchen and washes his hands, after giving Erica a juice box. She watches him with interest, her big brown eyes following every movement. Even despite her being adopted, she still shows so much likeness to both Harry and Zayn. Thomas doesn’t look much like them with his blue eyes and blond hair, looks more like he could be Niall’s child, which he gets mistaken for often if they’re out and about together. Harry thinks both of them got Zayn’s sweet tooth, but then again, they’re children.

 

Their freshly eight-year-old son comes strolling into the kitchen then, stomping with his black pirate boots. ‘’When’s aunt Cassie coming over?’’

 

‘’Should be here in a minute,’’ Harry says, looking at the clock in their kitchen. ‘’She had to go to the daycare first.’’ _Their_ daycare. Harry and Cassandra own the one they used to work at, now, after their old boss retired and offered to sell them the business. They used the location away from home to store Tom’s presents, and Cass just had to pick them up.

 

‘’Wonder when Niall will have the guts to ask her out,’’ Zayn pipes up, plopping down on a chair at the table.

 

‘’Actually,’’ Harry grins, sitting down across from him with Erica in his lap, ‘’they’ve been dating for a while.’’

 

‘’ _What?_ ’’

 

‘’Best friend privilege, so I get to know.’’ Harry shrugs. ‘’They didn’t want to jinx it, but those two are perfect for each other.’’

 

‘’So why tell me now?’’ Zayn frowns, but cracks a smile when Tom pokes him in the cheek.

 

‘’Because you have husband privilege. Also, I think they’re planning to tell everyone tonight, so act surprised.’’

 

‘’Do I have to act surprised, too?’’ Tom asks, climbing on Zayn’s lap and kneeing him in the stomach. ‘’Sorry, pa.’’

 

‘’It’s okay.’’ Zayn takes off his pirate hat so it’s not at risk of stabbing him in the eye. ‘’You can just copy the others. They _will_ be surprised, right Harry?’’

 

‘’Yes.’’ Harry rolls his eyes. ‘’You and I are the only ones that know.’’

 

Zayn nods, and they both look at the clock when the doorbell rings. ‘’That woman is always freakishly on time.’’

 

‘’I love her for it.’’

 

‘’Aunt Cassie!’’ Tom shrieks, bounding off Zayn’s lap and hurrying off to open the front door.

 

Harry sighs. ‘’And so it begins.’’

 

*

 

Knackered is an understatement for how he feels. Harry is sure he still forgot some dishes, _somewhere_ , but he can’t be bothered to clean those until tomorrow.

 

The party was a success. All the food got demolished, Niall and Cassie finally announced that they’re a happy couple, and there was no crying over presents or one particular candle that wouldn’t go out in one breath with the rest. The latter happened the previous year, and they recorded all of it. It’s excellent material to embarrass Thomas with when he’s older.

 

When he’s older.

 

That makes Harry think. Makes him think about his own future. He’s been with Zayn for twelve years now, married for ten. There isn’t a single doubt that they’re going to spend the rest of their lives together. He’s going to watch Zayn grow old, but never any less beautiful. They’re probably going to become grandparents one day, and Harry looks forward to spoiling his grandchildren. The way his mother likes to spoil her own.

 

One of the presents she gave Thomas was a storybook, full of fairytales. They’re reading it right now, Tom proudly showing off his storytelling skills, like the pro he knows he is. He’s had plenty of practice, reading through all sorts of books. Definitely a characteristic he shares with Zayn; the ability to enjoy reading anything. Although his favourite is definitely fairytales.

 

Harry looks at Zayn over Tom’s head. Their son is nestled between them, settled under both their arms as they listen to him read and watch him point at the pictures. He tries to catch his husband’s attention by brushing a finger over his cheek.

 

It works, and Zayn quirks an eyebrow at him. Harry just smiles, pours all the love he has in his gaze and trusts Zayn to read him like an open book, the way he always does. Read him like the book in front of them right now.

 

Sometimes, Zayn calls Harry his fairytale. His love of a lifetime. His happy ending. Harry often tries to think of something else to call Zayn, but he can’t find anything more fitting.

 

Because if their life was a fairytale, they would have the happiest ending of all.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
>  
> 
> Come find me on Tumblr! (@lotusandrose)


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